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DSU6HT€RS  OF  THe  REVOLUTION 

AND  TH€IR  TIM6S 

1769  - 1776 


BY-  CHARL€S-CARL€TON-COFF1N 


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ELlZAiiETH    IIOOTON    WARREN 


DAUGHTERS    OF    THE 

REVOLUTION   AND 

THEIR  TIMES 

1769 — 1776 
ja  l^tsftorical  Komance 


BY 


CHARLES  CARLETON  COFFIN 


BOSTON    AND    NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 


Copyright,  1895, 
By  CHARLES  CARLETON  COFPIN. 

All  rights  reserved. 


SIXTH  THOUSAND. 


Tf>e  P.ivrTSi'U  Press.  Cambriilge,  Mms.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  and  Company. 


INTRODUCTION. 

No  period  in  the  history  of  our  country  surpasses 
in  interest  that  immediately  preceding  and  including 
the  beginning  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  Many  vol- 
umes have  been  written  setting  forth  the  patriotism 
and  heroism  of  the  fathers  of  the  Republic,  but  the 
devotion  of  the  mothers  and  daughters  has  received 
far  less  attention.  This  volume  is  designed,  there- 
fore, to  portray  in  some  degree  their  influence  in  the 
straggle  of  the  Colonies  to  attain  their  independence. 
The  narration  of  events  takes  the  form  of  a  story  —  a 
slight  thread  of  romance  being  employed,  rather  than 
didactic  narrative,  to  more  vividly  picture  the  scenes 
and  the  parts  performed  by  the  actors  in  the  great 
historic  drama.  It  will  not  be  difficult  for  the  reader 
to  discern  between  the  facts  of  history  and  the  imagi- 
native parts  of  the  story. 

Eminent  educators  have  expressed  the  opinion  that 
history  may  be  more  successfully  taught  through  the 
medium  of  fiction  than  by  any  other  form  of  diction. 
The  novels  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  notably  "  Waverley," 
"  Ivanhoe,"  are  cited  as  presenting  pictures  of  the 
times  more  effectively  than  any  purely  historic  vol- 
ume. The  same  may  be  said  of  '•'Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin,"  as  illustrating  the  state  of  affairs  in  our  own 
coimtiy  preceding  the  War  of  the  Rebellion.  It 
may  be  questioned  whether    any  work   of  fiction   in 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

the  world's  history  has  been  so  far-reaching  in  its  in- 
fluence as  that  portrayal  of  the  institution  of  slavery 
by  Mrs.  Stowe.  Believing  that  the  spirit  of  the  times 
can  be  best  pictured  by  the  employment  of  romance,  I 
have  adopted  that  form  of  narrative. 

The  story  opens  in  the  fall  of  1769.  The  Stamp 
Act  had  been  rej)ealed,  and  the  UTitation  produced  by 
that  act  had  been  allayed.  It  was  a  period  of  quiet 
and  rest.  The  colonists  still  regarded  themselves  as 
Englishmen  and  loyal  to  the  crown.  Information 
came  that  His  Majesty  George  III.  was  determined 
to  maintain  his  right  to  tax  the  Colonies  by  imposing 
an  export  duty  on  tea,  to  be  paid  by  the  exporter, 
who,  in  turn,  would  charge  it  to  the  consumer.  The 
first  resistance  to  that  claim  was  the  agreement  of  all 
but  six  of  the  merchants  of  Boston  not  to  import  tea 
from  England,  and  the  agreement  of  their  wives  and 
daughters  not  to  drink  tea  so  imported.  It  was  a 
resistance  which  had  its  outcome  in  the  destruction  of 
three  cargoes  of  tea  by  the  historic  "  Tea-Party,"  — 
a  resistance  which  became  equally  effective  in  the 
other  Colonies,  if  less  dramatic  than  in  Boston.  The 
determination  of  the  mothers  and  daughters  to  ab- 
stain from  its  use  brought  about  a  change  in  social 
life,  and  was  influential  in  awakening  a  public  senti- 
ment which  had  its  legitimate  outcome  in  the  events 
at  Lexington,  Concord,  and  Bunker  Hill. 

There  were  causes  other  than  the  Stamp  Act,  Writs 
of  Assistance,  and  the  Tax  on  Tea,  which  brought  about 
the  Revolution. 

"  Whoever  would  comprehend  the  causes  which  led 
to  the  struggle  of  the  Colonies  for  independence,"  says 


INTRODUCTION.  v 

John  Adams,  "  must  study  the  Acts  of  the  Board  of 
Trade." 

In  this  volvune  I  have  endeavored  to  briefly  pre- 
sent some  of  those  acts,  in  the  conversation  of  Sam 
Adams  with  Robert  Walden,  that  the  school  children 
of  the  country  may  have  a  comprehension  of  the  un- 
derlymg  causes  which  brought  about  resistance  to 
the  tyranny  of  the  mother  country.  The  injustice 
of  the  laws  had  its  legitimate  result  m  a  disregard  of 
moral  obMgations,  so  that  smuggling  was  regarded  as 
a  virtuous  act. 

In  no  history  have  I  been  able  to  find  an  account 
of  the  tragic  death  and  dramatic  burial  of  the  school- 
boy Christopher  Snider,  given  in  chapter  VIII.  It 
was  the  expression  of  sympathy  by  the  j)eople  in  fol- 
lowing the  body  of  the  murdered  boy  from  the  Liberty 
Tree  to  the  burial-place  that  intensified  the  antagonism 
between  the  citizens  and  the  soldiers  of  the  Fourteenth 
and  Twenty  -  ninth  regiments  of  the  king's  troojjs, 
which  led,  the  following  week,  to  the  Massacre  of 
March  5, 1770.  Bancroft  barely  mentions  the  name  of 
Snider ;  other  historians  make  no  account  of  the  event. 

To  explain  the  motives  and  the  play  of  forces  which 
brought  about  the  Revolution,  I  have  endeavored  to 
set  forth  society  as  it  was  not  only  in  Boston  but  in 
Parliament  and  at  the  Court  of  George  III.  Most 
historians  of  the  Revolutionary  period  regard  the  debt 
incurred  by  Great  Britain  in  the  conquest  of  Canada 
as  the  chief  cause  of  the  war,  through  the  attempt  of 
the  mother  country,  subsequently,  to  obtain  revenue 
from  the  Colonies  ;  but  a  study  of  the  times  gives  con- 
clusive evidence  that  a  large  portion  of  the  indebted- 


▼i  INTRODUCTION. 

ness  was  caused  by  mismanagement  and  the  venality 
and  corruption  of  Parliament. 

To  set  forth  the  extravagance  and  frivolity  of  soci- 
ety surroimding  King  George,  I  have  employed  Lord 
Upperton  and  his  companion,  Mr.  Dapper,  as  narra- 
tors. The  student  of  history  by  turning  to  Jessee's 
«  Life  and  Times  of  George  III.,"  Molloy's  "  Court 
Life  Below  Stairs,"  Waldegi'ave's  "  Memoirs,"  Hor- 
ace Walpole's  writings,  and  many  other  volumes,  will 
find  ample  corroboration  of  any  statement  made  in 
this  volvmie. 

The  period  was  characterized  by  sublime  enthusi- 
asm, self-sacrifice,  and  devotion,  not  only  by  the 
patriots  but  by  loyalists  who  conscientiously  adhered 
to  the  crown.  In  our  admiration  of  those  who  secured 
the  independence  of  the  Colonies,  we  have  overlooked 
the  sacrifices  and  sufferings  of  the  loyalists ;  —  their 
distress  during  the  siege  of  Boston,  the  agony  of  the 
hour  when  suddenly  confronted  with  the  appalling 
fact  that  they  must  become  aliens,  exiles,  and  wander- 
ers, leaving  behind  all  their  possessions  and  estates,  — 
an  hour  when  there  was  a  sundering  of  tender  ties,  the 
breaking  of  hearts. 

I  have  endeavored  to  make  the  recital  of  events 
strictly  conformable  with  historic  facts  by  consulting 
newspapers,  docmnents,  almanacs,  diaries,  genealogi- 
cal records,  and  family  histories. 

It  was  my  great  privilege  in  boyhood  to  hear  the 
story  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  told  by  three  men 
who  participated  in  the  fight,  —  Eliakim  Walker,  who 
was  in  the  redoubt  under  Prescott,  Nathaniel  Atkinson 
and  David  Flanders,  who  were   under  Stark,  by  the 


INTRODUCTION.  vii 

rail  fence.  They  were  near  neighbors,  pensioners  of 
the  government,  and  found  pleasure  in  rehearsing  the 
events  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  My  grandfather, 
Eliphalet  Kilburn,  was  at  Winter  HiU  at  the  time  of 
the  battle. 

It  was  also  my  privilege  to  walk  over  Bunker  Hill 
with  Richard  Frothingham,  author  of  the  "  Siege  of 
Boston,"  whose  home  was  on  the  spot  where  Bigot's 
brigade  was  cut  down  by  the  withering  fire  from  the 
redoubt.  Mr.  Frothingham  had  conversed  with  many 
old  pensioners  who  were  in  the  redoubt  at  the  time 
of  the  battle.  In  my  account  of  the  engagement  I 
have  endeavored  to  picture  it  in  accordance  with  tiie 
various  narratives. 

I  hardly  need  say  that  Ruth  Newville,  Berinthia 
Brandon,  and  Mary  Shrimpton  are  typical  characters, 
representing  the  young  women  of  the  period,  —  a  pe- 
riod in  which  families  were  divided,  parents  adhering 
to  King  George,  sons  and  daughters  giving  their  alle- 
giance to  Liberty. 

I  am  under  obligations  to  the  proprietors  of  the 
"  Memorial  Plistory  of  Boston "  for  the  portrait  of 
Mrs.  Joseph  Warren.  The  portrait  of  Dorothy 
Quincy  is  from  that  in  possession  of  the  Bostonian 
Society;  that  of  Mrs.  John  Adams  from  her  "Life 
and  Letters." 

The  historic  houses  are  from  recent  photographs. 

I  trust  the  reader  will  not  regard  this  volume 
wholly  as  a  romance,  but  rather  as  a  presentation  of 
the  events,  scenes,  incidents,  and  spirit  of  the  people 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution. 

Charles  Carleton  Coffin. 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

Introduction Hi 

I.    ROBEKT   WaLDEN   GOBS   TO   MARKET     .    "      .  .  .1 

n.  First  Day  in  Boston 20 

III.  The  Sons  of  Liberty 38 

IV.  An  Evening  with  Sam  Adams        ....  49 
V.   A  Garden  Tea-Party 69 

VI.   Christ  Church  Chimes 93 

VII.  Launching  of  the  Berinthia  Brandon  .        .        .  104 

Vni.   Christopher  Snider 119 

IX.   The  Lobsters  and  Ropemakers        ....  130 
X.  Mrs.  Newville's  Dinner-Party     ....      149 

XI.  Society  Life  in  London 174 

XII.  A  New  England  Girl 188 

Xni.   The  Mohawks  and  their  Tea-Party      .        .        .  203 
XIV.   Benevolence  and  Brotherhood    ....      221 

XV.  The  Midnight  Ride 241 

XVI.   The  Morning  Drumbeat 259 

XVII.   Beginning  of  a  New  Era 266 

XVIIL   Besieged 280 

XIX.  Bunker  Hill 291 

XX.   When  the  Tide  was  going  out     ....      305 

XXI.   The  Escape 320 

XXII.   Brave  of  Heart 337 

XXIII.  Sundering  of  Heartstrings 356 

XXIV.  In  the  Old  Home 374 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


faoe 

Elizabeth  Hooton  Warren Frontispiece 

Old  Brick  Meetinghoitse Iti 

Latin  School 17 

Green  Dragon  Tavekn 18 

Faneuil  Hall  and  Market-Place 21 

Map  of  Boston 23 

Samuel  Ax)ams 26 

Doctor  Joseph  Warren 40 

Copp's  Hill  Burial  Ground 49 

In  the  Shipyard 53 

Master  Lovell 73 

Abigail  Smith  Adams 82 

Mr.  Hancock's  House 83 

Dorothy  Quincy 84 

Christ  Church 94 

Launching  the  Ship 110 

Lord  Xorth 129 

King's  Chapel 135 

Town  House 143 

George  III 161 

Queen  Sophia  Charlotte 166 

Lord  Percy 232 

Paul  Revere's  House 253 

Reverend  Jonas  Clark's  House         ......  258 

Buckman's  Tavern      .        .        , 260 

Jonathan  Harrington's  House 264 

Robert  Munroe's  House 266 

Map,  Route  to  Lexington  and  Concord 267 

Reverend  William  Emerson's  House 268 

Wright's  Tavern 270 

North  Bridge       .        , 272 

Merriam's  Corner 274 

Munroe  Tavern 276 

Province  House 281 

Where  Washington  assumed  Command         ....      308 

Planning  the  Escape 324 

WASHiNfiTON's  Headquarters 334 

The  Dinner-Party 381 

Home  of  the  Exiles 384 


DAUGHTERS   OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


I. 

ROBERT  WALDEN   GOES   TO   MARKET. 

Joshua  Walden,  of  Riimford,  Province  of  New- 
Hampshire,  was  receiving  letters  from  Samuel  Adams 
and  Doctor  Joseph  Warren  in  relation  to  the  course 
pursued  by  King  George  III.  and  his  ministers  in 
collecting  revenue  from  the  Colonies.  Mr.  Walden 
had  fought  the  French  and  Indians  at  Ticonderoga 
and  Crown  Point  in  the  war  with  France.  The  gun 
and  powder-horn  which  he  carried  under  Captain 
John  Stark  were  hanging  over  the  door  in  his  kitchen. 
His  farm  was  on  the  banks  of  the  Merrimac.  The 
stately  forest  trees  had  fallen  beneath  the  sturdy 
blows  of  his  axe,  and  the  sun  was  shining  on  inter- 
vale and  upland,  meadow  and  pasture  which  he  had 
cleared.  His  neighbors  said  he  was  getting  fore- 
handed. Several  times  during  the  year  he  made  a 
journey  to  Boston  with  his  cheeses,  beef,  pigs,  tur- 
keys, geese,  chickens,  a  barrel  of  apple-sauce,  bags 
filled  with  wool,  together  with  webs  of  linsey-woolsey 
spun  and  woven  by  his  wife  and  daughter.  He  never 
failed  to  have  a  talk  with  Mr.  Adams  and  Doctor 
Warren,  John  Hancock,  and  others  foremost  in  resist- 


2  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ing  the  aggressions  of  the  mother  country  upon  the 
rights  and  liberties  of  the  Colonies.  When  at  home 
he  was  up  early  in  the  morning,  building  the  fire, 
feeding  the  cattle,  and  milking  the  cows.  Mrs.  Wal- 
den,  the  while,  was  stirring  the  com  meal  for  a 
johnny-cake,  putting  the  potatoes  in  the  ashes,  placing 
the  Dutch  oven  on  the  coals,  hanging  the  pots  and 
kettles  on  the  hooks  and  trammels. 

Robert,  their  only  son,  twenty  years  old,  would  be 
glad  to  take  another  nap  after  being  called  by  his 
father,  but  felt  it  would  not  be  manly  for  one  who 
had  mowed  all  the  hired  men  out  of  their  swaths  in 
the  hayfield,  and  who  had  put  the  best  wrestler  in 
Rumford  on  his  back,  to  lie  in  bed  and  let  his  father 
do  all  the  chores,  with  the  cows  lowing  to  get  to  the 
pasture.  With  a  spring  he  was  on  his  feet  and  slip- 
ping on  his  clothes.  He  was  soon  on  his  way  to  the 
barn,  drumming  on  the  tin  pail  and  whistling  as  he 
walked  to  the  milking. 

The  cows  turned  into  pasture,  he  rubbed  down  the 
mare  Jenny  and  the  colt  Paul,  fed  the  pigs,  washed 
his  face  and  hands,  and  was  ready  for  breakfast. 

It  would  not  have  been  like  Rachel  Walden,  the 
only  daughter,  eighteen  years  old,  to  lie  in  bed  and 
let  her  mother  do  all  the  work  about  the  house.  She 
came  from  her  chamber  with  tripping  steps,  as  if  it 
were  a  pleasure  to  be  wide  awake  after  a  good  sleep. 
She  fed  the  chickens,  set  the  table,  raked  the  potatoes 
from  the  ashes,  drew  a  mug  of  cider  for  her  father. 
When  breakfast  was  ready,  they  stood  by  their  chairs 
while  Mr.  Walden  asked  a  blessing.  The  meal  fin- 
ished, he  read  a  chapter    in    the    Bible  and  offered 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.         3 

prayer.  When  the  "  Amen  "  was  said,  Mr.  Walden 
and  Robert  put  on  their  hats  and  went  about  their 
work.  Mrs.  Walden  passed  upstairs  to  throw  the 
shuttle  of  the  loom.  Rachel  washed  the  dishes, 
wheyed  the  curd,  and  prepared  it  for  the  press,  turned 
the  cheeses  and  rubbed  them  with  fat.  That  done,  she 
set  the  kitchen  to  rights,  made  the  beds,  sprinkled 
clean  sand  upon  the  floor,  wet  the  web  of  linen  bleach- 
ing on  the  grass  in  the  orchard,  then  slijDped  upstairs 
and  set  the  spinning-wheel  to  humming.  His  neigh- 
bors said  that  Mr.  Walden  was  tlirifty  and  could  af- 
ford to  wear  a  broadcloth  blue  coat  with  bright  brass 
buttons  on  grand  occasions,  and  that  Mrs.  Walden  was 
warranted  in  having  a  satin  gown. 

Haying  was  over.  The  rye  was  reaped,  the  wheat 
and  oats  were  harvested,  and  the  flax  was  pulled. 
September  had  come,  —  the  time  when  Mr.  Walden 
usually  went  to  Boston  with  the  cheese. 

"  Father,"  said  Rachel  at  dinner,  "  I  wish  you 
would  take  the  cheeses  to  market.  It  is  hard  work  to 
turn  so  many  every  day." 

Mr.  Walden  sat  in  silence  awhile.  "Robert,"  he 
said  at  length,  "  how  would  you  like  to  ivy  your  hand 
at  truck  and  dicker  ?  " 

"  If  you  think  I  can  do  it  I  will  try,"  Robert  re- 
plied, surprised  at  the  question,  yet  gratified. 

"  Of  course  you  can  do  it.  You  can  figure  up  how 
much  a  cheese  that  tips  the  steelyard  at  twenty 
pounds  and  three  ounces  will  come  to  at  three  pence 
ha'penny  per  pound.  You  know,  or  you  ought  to 
know,  the  difference  between  a  pistareen  and  a  smooth- 
faced shilling.     When  you  truck  and  dicker,  you  've 


4  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

got  to  remember  that  the  other  feller  is  doing  it  all 
the  time,  while  you  will  be  as  green  as  a  pumpkin  in 
August.  When  you  are  tasting  'lasses,  you  must  run 
a  stick  into  the  bimg-hole  of  the  barrel  clear  down  to 
the  bottom  and  then  lift  it  up  and  see  if  it  is  thick  or 
thin.  T'  other  feller  will  want  you  to  taste  it  at  the 
spiggot,  where  it  will  be  almost  sugar.  When  you 
are  selecting  dried  codfish,  look  sharp  and  not  let 
him  give  you  all  damp  ones  from  the  bottom  of  the 
pile,  neither  the  little  scrimped  ones  from  the  toj). 
Of  course  you  will  get  cheated,  but  you  have  got  to 
begin  knocking  about  some  time.  You  're  old  enough 
to  have  your  eye  teeth  cut.  You  can  put  Jenny  up 
at  the  Green  Dragon  and  visit  Cousin  Jedidiah  Bran- 
don on  Copp's  Hill,  see  the  ships  he  is  building,  visit 
with  Tom  and  Berinthia.  Tom,  I  guess,  is  going  to 
be  a  chip  of  the  old  block,  and  Berinthia  is  a  nice  girl. 
Take  your  good  clothes  along  in  your  trunk,  so  after 
you  get  through  handling  the  cheese  you  can  dress 
like  a  gentleman.  I  want  you  to  pick  out  the  best 
cheese  of  the  lot  and  give  it  to  Samuel  Adams,  also 
another  to  Doctor  Warren,  with  my  compliments. 
You  can  say  to  Mr.  Adams  I  woidd  like  any  informa- 
tion he  can  give  about  what  is  going  on  in  London 
relative  to  taxing  the  Colonies.  He  is  very  kind,  and 
possibly  may  ask  you  to  call  upon  him  of  an  evening, 
for  he  is  very  busy  during  the  day.  Doctor  Warren 
is  one  of  the  kindest-hearted  men  in  the  world,  and 
cliuck  full  of  patriotism.  He  will  give  a  hearty  shake 
to  yf)ur  hand. 

"  You  had  better  mouse  round   the  market  awhile 
before  trading.     John  Hancock  bought  my  last  load 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.         5 

His  store  is  close  by  Faneuil  Hall.  He  is  rich,  inher- 
ited his  property  from  his  uncle.  He  lives  in  style  in 
a  stone  house  on  Beacon  HiU.  He  is  liberal  with  his 
money,  and  is  one  of  the  few  rich  men  in  Boston  who 
take  sides  with  the  people  against  the  aggressions  of 
King  George  and  his  ministers.  Mr.  Adams  begins 
to  be  gi'ay,  but  Warren  and  Hancock  are  both  yoimg 
men.  They  are  doing  grand  things  in  maintaining  the 
rights  of  the  Colonies.  I  want  you  to  make  their  ac- 
quaintance. By  seeing  and  talking  with  such  men  you 
wUl  be  worth  more  to  yourself  and  everybody  else. 
Your  going  to  market  and  meeting  such  gentlemen 
•will  be  as  good  as  several  months  of  school.  You  '11 
see  more  people  than  you  ever  saw  on  the  muster-field ; 
ships  from  foreign  lands  will  be  moored  in  the  harbor. 
You  '11  see  houses  by  the  thousand,  meetinghouses  with 
tall  steeples,  and  wUl  hear  the  bells  ring  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  getting-up  time,  at  noon  for  dinner, 
and  at  nine  in  the  evening,  bed-time.  Two  regiments 
of  red-coats  are  there.  The  latest  news  is  that  they  are 
getting  sassy.  I  can  believe  it.  At  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown  Point  they  used  to  put  on  airs,  and  call  the 
Provincials  "  string  -  beans,"  "  polly  -  pods,"  "slam 
bangs."  They  turned  up  their  noses  at  our  buckskin 
breeches,  but  when  it  came  to  fighting  we  showed  'em 
what  stuff  we  were  made  of.  Don't  let  'm  pick  a  quar- 
rel, but  don't  take  any  sass  from  'em.  Do  right  by 
everybody." 

"  I  will  try  to  do  right,"  Robert  repKed. 

The  sun  was  rismg  the  next  morning  when  Robert 
gathered  up  the  reins  and  stood  ready  to  step  into  the 
wagon  which  had  been  loaded  for  the  market. 


6  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  You  have  tlu*ee  dozen  new  milk  cheeses,"  said 
Rachel,  ''  and  two  and  one  half  dozen  of  four  meal.  I 
liave  mai'ked  the  four  meals  with  a  cross  in  the  centre, 
so  you  '11  know  them  fi*om  the  new  milk.  There  ai'e 
sixteen  gi'eened  with  sage.  They  look  real  pretty.  I 
have  put  in  half  a  dozen  skims ;  somebody  may  want 
'em  for  toasting." 

"You  ^\dll  find,"  said  Mrs.  AValden,  "a  web  of 
linsey-woolsey  in  your  tnmk  wdth  your  best  clothes, 
and  a  dozen  skeins  of  wool  yam.  It  is  lamb's  wool. 
I  've  doubled  and  twisted  it,  and  I  don't  believe  the 
women  will  find  in  all  Boston  anything  softer  or  nicer 
for  stocking-s."  « 

"•  I  have  put  up  six  quarts  of  caraway  seed,"  said 
Rachel.  "  I  guess  the  bakers  AN-ill  want  it  to  put  into 
gingerbread.  And  I  have  packed  ten  dozen  eggs  in 
oats,  in  a  basket.  They  ai'e  all  fresh.  You  can  use 
the  oats  to  bait  Jenny  with  on  your  way  home." 

"  There  are  two  -bushels  of  beans,"  said  Mr.  Wal- 
deu,  "•  in  that  bag,  —  the  one-hundred-and-oue  kind,  — 
and  a  bushel  and  three  pecks  of  clover  seed  in  the  other 
bag.  You  can  get  a  barrel  of  'lasses,  half  a  quintal  of 
codfish,  half  a  barrel  of  mackerel,  and  a  bag  of  Turk's 
Island  salt."' 

'•  Don't  forget,"  said  Mrs.  Walden,  "  that  we  want 
some  pepper,  spice,  cinnamon,  nutmegs,  cloves,  and 
'^ome  of  the  very  best  ]Maecaboy  snuff.  Oh,  let  me 
see!  I  want  a  new  foot-stove.  Our  old  one  is  all 
banged  up,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  be  seen  filling  it  at 
noon  in  winter  in  Deacon  Stonegood's  kitchen,  with 
all  the  women  looking  on,  and  theirs  spick  and  span 
new." 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.         7 

*'  Father  and  mother  have  told  me  what  they  want, 
and  now  what  shall  I  get  for  you,  Rachel  ?  "  Robert 
asked  of  his  sister. 

"  Anytliing  you  please,  Rob,"  Rachel  replied  with 
such  tender  love  in  her  eyes  that  he  had  half  a  mind 
to  Idss  her.  But  kissing  was  not  common  in  Rumford 
or  anywhere  else  in  New  England.  Never  had  he 
seen  his  father  give  his  mother  such  a  token  of  affec- 
tion. He  had  a  dim  recollection  tliat  his  mother  some- 
times kissed  him  when  he  was  a  little  fellow  in  frock 
and  trousers,  sitting  in  her  lap.  He  never  had  kissed 
Rachel,  but  he  would  now,  and  gave  her  a  hearty  smack. 
He  saw  an  unusual  brightness  in  her  eyes  and  a  richer 
bloom  upon  her  cheek  as  he  stepped  into  the  wagon. 

"  I  '11  get  something  nice  for  her,"  he  said  to  him- 
self as  he  rode  away. 

Besides  the  other  articles  in  the  wagon,  there  was  a 
bag  of  wool,  sheared  from  his  own  flock.  Years  be- 
fore his  father  had  given  him  a  cosset  lamb,  and  now 
he  was  the  owner  of  a  dozen  sheep.  Yes,  he  would 
get  something  for  her. 

The  morning  air  was  fresh  and  pure.  He  whistled 
a  tune  and  watched  the  wild  pigeons  flying  in  great 
flocks  here  and  there,  and  the  red-winged  blackbirds 
sweeping  past  him  from  their  roosting  in  the  alders 
along  the  meadow  brook  to  the  stubble  field  where  the 
wheat  had  been  harvested.  *  Gray  squirrels  were  bark- 
ing in  the  woods,  and  their  cousins  the  reds,  less  shy, 
were  scurrying  along  the  fence  rails  and  up  the  chest- 
nut-trees to  send  the  prickly  burrs  to  the  ground.  -The 
first  tinge  of  autumn  was  on  the  elms  and  maples. 
Jenny  had  been  to  market  so  many  times  she  could  be 


8  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

trusted  to  take  the  right  road,  and  he  could  lie  upon 
his  sack  of  wool  and  enjoy  the  changing  landscape. 

Mrs.  Stark  was  blowing  the  horn  for  dinner  at 
John  Stark's  tavern  in  Derryfield  when  Jenny  caine 
to  a  standstill  by  the  stable  door.^  Robert  put  her  in 
the  stall,  washed  his  face  and  hands  in  the  basin  on 
the  bench  by  the  bar-room  door,  and  was  ready  for 
dinner.  Captain  Stark  shook  hands  with  him.  Rob- 
ert beheld  a  tail,  broad-shouldered  man,  with  a  high 
forehead,  bright  blue  eyes,  and  pleasant  countenance, 
but  with  Imes  in  his  cheek  indicating  that  he  coidd  be 
very  firm  and  resolute.  This  was  he  under  whom  his 
father  served  at  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point. 

"  So  you  are  the  son  of  Josh  Walden,  eh  ?  Well, 
you  have  your  father's  eyes,  nose,  and  mouth.  If  you 
have  got  the  gi-it  he  had  at  Ti,  I  '11  bet  on  you." 

Many  times  Robert  had  heard  his  father  tell  the 
story  of  the  Rifle  Rangers,  the  service  they  performed, 
the  hardships  they  endured,  and  the  bravery  and  cool- 
ness of  John  Stark  in  battle. 

Through  the  afternoon  the  mare  trotted  on,  halting 
at  sunset  at  Jacob  Abbott's  stable  in  Andover. 

It  was  noon  the  next  day  when  Robert  reached  Cam- 
bridge. He  had  heard  about  Harvard  College  ;  now 
he  saw  the  buildings.  The  students  were  having  a 
game  of  football  after  dinner.  The  houses  along  the 
streets  were  larger  than  an}'' he  hatl  ever  seen  before,  — 
stately  mansions  with  porticoes,  piUars,  pilasters,  carved 
cornices,  and  verandas.    The  gardens  were  stiU  bright 

*  John  Stark,  tavern-keeper  in  Derryfield,  was  the  renowned  Indian 
fighter  and  captain  of  the  corps  of  Rifle  Rangers  in  the  war  with 
France.  (See  Biography  by  Jared  Sparks.)  The  tavern  is  still  stand* 
ing  in  the  subiirhs  of  the  citv  of  Manchester.  X.  H. 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.  9 

with  the  flowers  of  autumn.  Reaching  Roxbury,  he 
came  across  a  man  slowly  making  his  way  along  the 
road  with  a  cane. 

'•  Let  me  give  you  a  lift,  sir,"  Robert  said. 

"  Thank  you.  I  have  been  down  with  the  rheumatiz, 
and  can't  skip  round  quite  as  lively  as  I  coiUd  once," 
said  the  man  as  he  climbed  into  the  wagon.  "  'Spect 
you  are  from  the  country  and  on  your  way  to  market, 
eh?" 

Robert  replied  that  he  was  from  New  Hampshire. 

"  Ever  been  this  way  before?  " 

"  No,  this  is  my  first  trip." 

"  Well,  then,  perhaps  I  can  p'int  out  some  things 
that  may  interest  ye." 

Robert  thanked  him. 

"  This  httle  strip  of  land  we  are  on  is  the  '  Neck.' 
This  water  on  our  left  is  Charles  River,  —  this  on  our 
right  is  Gallows  Bay.  Ye  see  that  thing  out  there, 
don't  ye?" 

The  man  pointed  with  his  cane.  "Well,  that 's  the 
gallows,  where  pirates  and  murderers  are  himg.  Lots 
of  'em  have  been  swimg  off  there,  with  thousands  of 
people  looking  to  see  'em  have  their  necks  stretched. 
'T  ain't  a  pretty  sight,  though." 

The  man  took  a  chew  of  tobacco,  and  renewed  the 
conversation. 

"  My  name  is  Peter  Bushwick,  and  yours  may 
be  —  ?" 

"  Robert  Walden." 

"Thank  ye,  Mr.  Walden.  So  ye  took  the  road 
through  Cambridge  instead  of  Charlestown." 

"  I  let  Jenny  pick  the  road.    That  through  Charles- 


10         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

town  would  have  been  nearer,  but  I  should  have  to 
cross  the  ferry.     My  father  usually  comes  this  way."  ^ 

"  Mighty  fine  mare,  Mr.  Walden ;  ye  can  see  she 's 
a  knowing  critter.  She 's  got  the  right  kind  of  an  ear ; 
she  knows  what  she's  about." 

They  were  at  the  narrowest  part  of  the  peninsula, 
and  Mr.  Bushwick  told  about  the  barricade  built  by 
the  first  settlers  at  that  point  to  protect  the  town  from 
the  Indians,  and  pointed  to  a  large  elm-tree  which 
they  could  see  quite  a  distance  ahead. 

"  That  is  the  Liberty  Tree,"  ^  he  said. 

"  Why  do  you  call  it  the  Liberty  Tree  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  where  the  Sons  of  Liberty  meet.  It 
is  a  mighty  fine  tree,  and,  as  near  as  we  can  make  out, 
is  more  than  one  hundred  years  old.  We  hang  the 
Pope  there  on  Guy  Fawkes'  day,  and  traitors  to  liberty 
on  other  days." 

"  I  have  heard  you  have  jolly  good  times  on  Gun- 
powder Plot  days." 

"  You  may  believe  we  do.  You  woidd  have  laughed 
if  you  "d  been  here  Gunpowder  day  seven  years  ago 
this  coming  November,  when  the  Pope,  Admiral  Byng, 

1  No  bridge  from  Charlestown  had  been  constructed  across  Charles 
Rivers  (ITOll),  and  the  only  avenue  leading  into  Boston  was  from  Rox- 
burA'. 

'■^  The  elm-tree  stood  at  the  junction  of  Orange  and  Essex  streets 
and  Frog  Lane,  now  Washington,  Kssex  and  Boylston  streets.  In  1766, 
upon  tlie  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act,  a  large  copper  plate  was  nailed  upon 
the  tree  with  the  following  inscription  :  '*  This  tree  was  planted  in 
the  year  KUti  and  pruned  by  the  Order  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty  Febru- 
ary 14,  ITOfj."  Other  trees  stood  near  it.  furnishing  a  grateful  shade. 
The  locality  before  ITOT  was  known  as  Hanover  Square,  but  after  the 
repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act.  as  Liberty  Hall.  In  August,  1767,  a  flag- 
staff was  raised  above  its  branches ;  the  hoisting  of  a  flag  upon  the 
staff  was  a  signal  for  the  assembling  of  tlie  Sons  of  Liberty. 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.        11 

Nancy  Dawson,^  and  the  Devil,  aU  were  found  hanging 
on  the  old  elm." 

"  I  don't  think  I  ever  heard  about  Admiral  Byng 
and  Nancy  Dawson." 

"  Well,  then,  I  must  tell  ye.  Byng  did  n't  fight 
the  French  and  Spaniards  at  Minorca,  but  sailed  away 
and  sort  o'  showed  the  white  feather,  and  so  was  court- 
martialed  and  shot  on  his  own  ship." 

"  What  did  Nancy  do  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Nancy  never  did  anything  except  kick  up  her 
heels ;  she 's  the  best  dancer  in  London,  so  they  say. 
We  have  n't  any  theatre  in  this  'ere  town,  and  don't 
have  much  dancing.  We  have  the  Thursday  lecture 
instead." 

Robert  wondered  whether  the  allusion  to  the  lecture 
was  said  soberly  or  in  sarcasm. 

"  In  London  they  go  wild  over  dancing.  Maybe 
I  might  sing  a  song  about  her  if  ye  would  like  to 
hear  it." 

"  I  would  like  very  much  to  hear  it." 

Mr.  BusliNvick  took  the  quid  of  tobacco  from  his 
mouth,  cleared  his  throat,  and  sang,  — 

"  'Of  all  the  girls  in  our  town, 
The  black,  the  fair,  the  red,  the  brown, 

^  Nancy  Dawson,  when  a  little  girl,  was  employed  in  setting  up 
skittles  for  players  in  High  Street,  Mary-le-bone,  London.  She  was 
agile,  graceful,  and  had  an  attractive  figui'e.  She  first  appeared  as  a 
dancer  at  Sadler's  Wells  theatre,  where  she  soon  attracted  much  at- 
tention, and  in  a  short  time  became  a  great  favorite.  A  rhymster 
wrote  a  song  for  her  which  was  introduced  (1764)  into  the  play,  "  Love 
in  a  Valley."  It  was  also  arranged  as  a  hornpipe  for  the  harpsichord 
and  sung  by  young  ladies  throughout  England.  Children  sang  it 
in  the  play,  "  Here  we  go  round  the  Mulberry  bush."  The  popularity 
of  Nancy  Dawson  wiis  at  its  height  in  1769. 


12         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

That  dance  and  prance  it  up  and  down, 
There  's  none  like  Nancy  Dawson. 

"  '  Her  easy  mien,  her  shape,  so  neat, 
She  foots,  she  trips,  she  looks  so  sweet, 
Her  every  motion  so  complete,  — 
There  's  none  like  Nancy  Dawson. 

"  '  See  how  she  comes  to  give  surprise, 
With  joy  and  pleasure  in  her  eyes  ; 
To  give  delight  she  always  tries,  — 
There  's  none  like  Nancy  Dawson.' " 

"  That 's  a  good  song,"  said  Robert.  Mr.  Bush- 
wick  put  the  quid  once  more  in  his  mouth,  and  went  on 
with  the  story. 

"  On  that  night  a  great  crowd  gathered  around  the 
tree ;  the  boys  who  go  to  Master  Lo veil's  school  came 
with  an  old  knocked-kneed  horse  and  a  rickety  wagon 
with  a  platform  in  it.  They  fixed  the  effigies  on  the 
platform  with  cords  and  pulleys,  so  that  the  arms  and 
legs  would  be  lifted  when  the  boys  imder  it  pulled  the 
strings.  We  lighted  our  torches  and  formed  in  proces- 
sion. The  fifers  played  the  Rogue's  March,  and  the 
bellman  went  ahead  singing  a  song. 

"  *  Don't  you  remember 
The  fifth  of  November  — 
The  gunpowder  treason  plot  ? 
I  see  no  reason 
Why  gunpowder  treason 
Should  ever  be  forgot. 

"  '  From  the  city  of  Rome 
The  Pope  has  come 
Amid  ten  thousand  fears, 
With  fiery  serpents  to  be  seen 
At  eyes,  nose,  mouth,  and  ears. 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.       13 

"  '  Don't  you  hear  my  little  bell 
Go  chinking,  chinking,  chink  ? 
Please  give  me  a  little  money 
To  buy  my  Pope  a  drink.' 

"The  streets  were  filled  with  people,  who  tossed 
pennies  into  the  bellman's  hat.  Everybody  laughed  to 
see  the  Pope  lifting  his  hands  and  working  his  under 
jaw  as  if  preaching,  Byng  rolling  his  goggle  eyes, 
Nancy  kicking  with  both  legs,  and  the  Devil  wriggling 
his  tail.  We  marched  awhile,  then  put  the  Pope  and 
the  devil  into  the  stocks,  Nancy  in  the  pillory,  tied 
Byng  to  the  whipping-post  and  gave  him  a  flogging, 
then  kindled  a  bonfire  in  King  Street,  pitched  the 
effigies  into  it,  and  went  into  the  Tun  and  Bacchus, 
Bunch  of  Grapes,  and  Admiral  Vernon,  and  drank  flip, 
egg-nogg,  piuich,  and  black  strap."  ^ 

Mr.  Bushwick  chuckled  merrily,  and  took  a  fresh 
quid  of  tobacco.  Robert  also  laughed  at  the  vivacious 
description. 

"  But  I  don't  quite  see  why  it  should  be  called  the 
Liberty  Tree,"  Robert  said. 

"I  was  coming  to  that."  You  know  that  Lord 
Bute  brought  forward  the  Stamp  Act  a  few  years 
ago :  well,  this  old  elm  being  so  near  the  White 
Lamb  and  the  White  Horse,  it  was  a  convenient 
place  for  the  citizens  to  meet  to  talk  about  the  prop- 
osition to  tax  us.  One  evening  Ben  Edes,  who  pub- 
lishes the  '  Gazette  and  News  -  Letter,'  read  what 
Ike  Barre  said  in  Parliament  m  opposition  to  the 
Stamp  Act,  in  which  he  called  us  Americans   Sons 

^  Black  strap  was  composed  of  rum  and  molasses,  and  was  often 
drunk  by  those  who  could  not  afford  more  expensive  beverag'es. 


14         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

of  Liberty,  and  as  that  was  our  meeting-place,  we 
christened  the  place  Liberty  HaU  and  the  old  elm 
Liberty  Tree.  ■  That  was  in  July,  1765,  just  after 
Parliament  passed  the  Stamp  Act,  The  king  had 
appointed  Andrew  Oliver  stamp-master,  and  one 
morning  his  effigy  was  dangling  from  the  tree,  and  a 
paper  pinned  to  it  writ  large  :  — 

"  '  Fair  Freedom's  glorious  Cause  I  've  meanly  quitted 
For  the  sake  of  pelf  ; 
But  ah,  the  Devil  has  me  outwitted  ; 
Instead  of  hanging  others, 
I  've  hanged  myself.' 

'•'•  Then  there  was  a  figure  of  a  great  boot,  with  the 
Devil  peeping  out  of  it,  to  represent  the  king's  minis- 
ter, Lord  Bute.  When  night  came,  all  hands  of  us 
formed  in  procession,  laid  the  effigies  on  a  bier, 
marched  to  the  Province  House  so  that  the  villain, 
Governor  Bernard,  could  see  us,  went  to  Mackerel 
Lane,  tore  down  the  building  Oliver  was  intending  to 
use  for  the  sale  of  the  stamps,  went  to  Fort  Hill, 
ripped  the  boards  from  his  barn,  smashed  in  his  front 
door,  and  burned  the  effigies  to  let  him  know  we  never 
would  consent  to  be  taxed  in  that  way.  A  few  days 
later  Oliver  came  to  the  tree,  held  up  his  hand,  and 
swore  a  solemn  oath  that  he  never  would  sell  any 
stamps,  so  help  him  God  !  And  he  never  did,  for  ye 
see  King  George  had  to  back  down  and  repeal  the 
bill.  It  was  the  next  May  when  Shubael  Coffin,  mas- 
ter of  the  brigantine  Harrison,  brought  the  news. 
AVe  set  all  the  bells  to  ringing,  fired  cannon,  and 
tossed  uj)  our  liats.  The  rich  people  opened  their 
j^ui'ses  and  paid  the  del)ts  of  everybody  in  jail.      We 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.       15 

hiuig  lanterns  on  the  tree  in  the  evening,  set  off  rock- 
ets, and  kindled  bonfiies.  John  Hancock  kept  open 
house,  with  ladies  and  gentlemen  feasting  in  his  par- 
lors, and  pipes  of  wine  on  tap  in  the  front  yard  for 
everybody." 

"It  must  have  been  a  joyful  day,"  said  Roberto 

"  That 's  what  it  was.  Everybody  was  generous. 
Last  year  when  the  day  came  round  a  lot  of  us  gath- 
ered under  the  old  tree  to  celebrate  it.  Sam  Adams 
was  there,  James  Otis,  Doctor  Warren,  John  Han- 
cock, and  ever  so  many  more.  We  fired  salutes,  sang 
songs,  and  drank  fourteen  toasts.  That  was  at  ten 
o'clock.  Just  before  noon  we  rode  out  to  the  Grey- 
homid  Tavern  in  Roxbury  in  carriages  and  chaises, 
and  had  a  dinner  of  fish,  roast  pig,  sirloin,  goose, 
chickens  and  all  the  trinmiings,  topping  off  with  plum- 
pudding  and  apple-pie,  sang  Dickenson's  Liberty  Song, 
drank  thirty  more  toasts,  forty-four  in  all,  filling  our 
glasses  with  port,  madeira,  egg-nogg,  flip,  punch,  and 
brandy.  Some  of  us,  of  course,  were  rather  jolly,  but 
we  got  home  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Bushwick,  laughing. 

"  You  mean  that  some  of  you  were  a  Kttle  weak  in 
the  legs,"  said  Robert. 

"Yes,  and  that  the  streets  were  rather  crooked," 
Mr.  Bushwick  replied,  laughing  once  more. 

They  were  abreast  of  the  tree,  and  Robert  reined  in 
Jenny  while  he  admired  its  beautiful  proportions. 

"  I  think  I  must  leave  you  at  this  point ;  my  house 
is  down  here,  on  Cow  Lane,^  not  far  from  the  house 
of  Sara  Adams.  I  'm  ever  so  much  obliged  to  you  for 
the  lift  ye  've  given  me,"  said  Mr.  Bushwick  as  he 
shook  hands  with  Robert. 

^  Cow  Lane  is  the  present  High  Street. 


16         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  information  you  have  given 
me,"  Robert  replied. 

Jenny  walked  on,  past  the  White  Horse  Inn  and 
the  Lamb  Tavern.  A  little  farther,  and  he  beheld 
the  Province  House,  a  building  with  a  cupola  sur- 
movmted  by  a  spire.  The  weather-vane  was  an  Indian 
with  bow  and  arrow.  The  king's  arms,  carved  and 
gilded,  "were  upon  the  balcony  above  the  doorway. 
Chestnut-trees  shaded  the  green  plot  of  ground  be- 
tween the  buUding  and  the  street.  A  soldier  with  his 
musket  on  his  shoidder  was  standing  guard.  Upon 
the  other  side  of  the  way,  a  few  steps  farther,  was  a 
meetinghouse ;  he  thought  it  must  be  the  Old  South. 
His  father  had  informed  him  he  woidd  see  a  brick 
building  with  an  apothecary's  sign  on  the  corner  just 
beyond  the  Old  South,  and  there  it  was.^  Also,  the 
Cromwell's  Head  Tavern  on  a  cross  street,  and  a 
schoolhouse,  which  he  concluded  must  be  Master 
Lo veil's  Latin  School.  He  suddenly  found  Jenny 
quickening  her  pace,  and  understood  the  meaning 
when  she  plunged  her  nose  into  a  watering  trough  by 
the  town  pump.  WhUe  she  was  drinking  Robert  was 
startled  by  a  bell  tolling  ahnost  over  his  head ;  upon 
looking  up  he  beheld  the  dial  of  a  clock  and  remem- 
bered his  father  had  said  it  was  on  the  Old  Brick 
Meetinghouse  ;  that  the  building  nearly  opposite  was 
the  Town  House. ^      He  saw  two  cannon  in  the  street 

'  The  Iniilding  known  as  the  Old  Corner  Bookstore,  at  the  junction 
of  School  and  Washington  streets.  The  Cromwell's  Head  Tavern  was 
No.  19  School  Street. 

-  The  old  hriek  meetinghouse  of  the  First  Church  occupied  the 
site  of  the  jjresent  Rogei-s  Building-,  nearly  opposite  the  Old  State 
House. 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES  TO  MARKET.       17 

and  a  soldier  keeping  guard  before  the  door.  Negi'o 
servants  were  filling  their  pails  at  the  pump,  and 
kindly  pumped  water  for  the  mare.  Looking  down 
King  Street  toward  the  water,  he  saw  the  stocks  and 
pillory,  the  Custom  House,  and  in  the  distance  the 
masts  and  yard-arms  of  ships.  Up  Queen  Street  he 
could  see  the  jail. 

The  mare,  having  finished  drinking,  jogged  on.     He 


Latif:    School. 


saw  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  street  the  shop  of 
Paul  Revere,  goldsmith.^  The  thought  came  that 
possibly  he  might  find  something  there  that  would  be 
nice  and  pretty  for  Rachel. 

Jenny,  knowing  she  was  uearing  the  end  of  her  jour- 
ney, trotted  through  Union  Street,  stopping  at  last  in 

^  The  shop  of  Paul   Revere  stood  on  Comhill,  now  No.  169  Wasb 
ing^n  Street. 


18 


DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


front  of  a  building  where  an  iron  rod  projected  fi-om 
the  wall,  supporting  a  gi*een  dragon  with  wings,  open 
jaws,  teeth,  and  a  tongue  shaped  like  a  dai-t.^  The  red- 
faced  landlord  was  standing  in  the  doorway. 


Green  Dragon  Tavern. 

"  WeU  Jenny,  old  girl,  how  do  you  do  ?  "  he  said, 
addressing  the  mare.  "  So  it  is  the  son  and  not  the  fa- 
ther ?      I  hope  you  are  well.     And  how  's  your  dad  ?  " 

Kobert  replied  that  his  father  was  well. 

"  Here,  Joe  ;  put  this  mare  in  the  stable,  and  give 
her  a  good  i-ubbing  down.  She 's  as  nice  a  piece  as 
ever  went  on  four  legs."     • 

^  The  Green  Dragon  Tavern  stood  in  Green  Dragon  Lane,  now  Union 
street.  The  lane  in  1709  terminated  at  the  mill-pond,  a  few  rods  from 
the  tavern.  In  front  it  showed  two  stories,  but  had  three  stories 
and  a  basement  in  the  rear.  Tlie  hall  was  in  the  second  story.  The  sign 
was  of  sheet  copper,  hanging  from  an  iron  rod  projecting  from  the 
building.  The  rooius  were  nained  Devonshire.  Somerset,  Norfolk,  re- 
sj)ectively.  for  the  shires  of  Old  England.  The  building  was  about  one 
hundred  years  old.  and  was  occupied.  1605,  by  Alexander  Smith  as  a 
tavern.  Tlie  estate  at  one  time  was  owned  by  Lieut.-Governor  Wil- 
liam Stoughton.  who  was  acting  governor  and  took  a  prominent  part 
in  pt-i-secuting  those  accused  of  witchcraft.  He  was  a  man  of  large 
wealth,  and  devised  a  portion  of  his  property  to  Harvard  ('ollege, 
Stoughton  Hall  being  named  for  him. 


ROBERT   WALDEN  GOES   TO  MARKET.        19 

The  hostler  took  the  reins  and  Robert  stepped  from 
the  wagon. 

"  Pete  Augustus,  take  this  gentleman's  ti-unk  up 
to  Devonshire.     It  will  be  your  room,  Mr.  Walden." 

Robert  followed  the  negro  upstairs,  and  discovered 
that  each  room  had  its  distinctive  name.  He  could 
have  carried  the  trunk,  but  as  he  was  to  be  a  gentle- 
man, it  woidd  not  be  dignified  were  he  to  shoidder  it. 
He  knew  he  must  be  in  the  market  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  went  to  bed  soon  after  supper.  He  might 
have  gone  at  once  to  Copp's  Hill,  assured  of  a  hearty 
welcome  in  the  Brandon  home,  but  preferred  to  make 
the  Green  Dragon  his  abiding-place  till  through  Avith 
the  business  that  brought  him  to  Boston. 


n. 

FIRST    DAY    IN    BOSTON. 

Farmers  from  the  towiis  around  Boston  were  al- 
ready in  the  market-place  around  Faneuil  Hall  the 
next  morning  when  Kobert  drove  down  from  the 
Green  Dragon.  ^  Those  who  had  quarters  of  beef  and 
lamb  for  sale  were  cutting  the  meat  upon  heavy  oaken 
tables.  Fishermen  were  bringing  baskets  filled  with 
mackerel  and  cod  from  their  boats  moored  in  the  dock. 
An  old  man  was  pushing  a  wheelbarrow  before  him 
filled  with  lobsters.  HouscAvives  followed  by  negro 
servants  were  purchasing  meats  and  vegetables,  hold- 
ing eggs  to  the  light  to  see  if  they  were  fresh,  tasting 
pats  of  butter,  handling  chickens,  and  haggling  with 
the  farmers  about  the  prices  of  what  they  had  to  sell. 

The  town-crier  was  jingling  his  bell  and  shouting 
that  Thomas  Russell  at  the  auction  room  on  Queen 
Street  would  sell  a  great  variety  of  plain  and  spotted, 
lilac,  scarlet,  strawberrj-colored,  and  yellow  paduasoys, 
bellandine  silks,  sateens,  galloons,  ferrets,  grograms, 
and  harratines  at  half  past  ten  o'clock. 

Robert  tied  Jenny  to  the  hitching-rail,  and  walked 
amid  the  hucksters  to  see  what  they  had  to  sell ;  by 

1  The  market  was  held  in  the  open  space  around  Faneuil  Hall,  in 
whicli  were  rails  where  the  farmers  from  the  surrounding  towns 
liitcliid  their  lioi-ses.  It  was  hounded  on  one  side  by  the  dock  where 
the  tishernieu  moored  their  boats. 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON. 


21 


observation  he  could  ascertain  the  state  of  the  mai'ket, 
and  govern  himself  accordingly.  After  interviewing 
the  hucksters  he  entered  a  store. 

"  No,  I  don't  want  any  cheese,"  said  the  first  on 
whom  he  called. 


mM^m 


Faneuil  Hall. 


"  The  market  is  glutted,"  replied  the  second. 

"  If  it  were  a  little  later  in  the  season  I  woidd  talk 
with  you,"  was  the  answer  of  the  third. 

"  I  've  got  more  on  hand  now  than  I  know  what  to 
do  with,"  said  the  fourth. 

Robert  began  to  think  he  might  have  to  take  them 
back  to  Rumford.  He  saw  a  sign,  "  John  Hancock, 
Successor  to  Thomas  Hancock,"  and  remembered  that 
his  father  had  traded  there,  and  that  John  Hancock 


22         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

was  associated  with  Sam  Adams  and  Doctor  Warren 
in  resisting  the  aggressions  of  the  king's  ministers. 
Mr.  Hancock  was  not  in  the  store,  but  would  soon  be 
there.  The  clerk  said  he  would  look  at  what  Robert 
had  to  sell,  put  on  his  hat,  stepped  to  the  wagon,  stood 
upon  the  thiUs,  held  a  cheese  to  his  nose,  pressed  it 
with  his  thumb,  tapped  it  with  a  gimlet,  tasted  it,  and 
smacked  his  lips. 

"  Your  mother  makes  good  cheese,"  he  said. 

"  My  sister  made  them." 

"  Your  sister,  eh.     Older  than  yourself  ?  " 

"  No,  younger ;  only  seventeen." 

"  Indeed  I  Well,  you  may  tell  her  she  is  a  dabster 
at  cheese-making.  Do  you  want  cash?  If  you  do 
I  'm  af eard  we  shall  not  be  able  to  trade,  because 
cash  is  cash  these  days ;  but  if  you  are  willing  to  bar- 
ter I  guess  we  can  dicker,  for  Mr.  Hancock  is  going 
to  freight  a  ship  to  the  West  Indias  and  wants  some- 
thing to  send  in  her,  and  it  strikes  me  the  sugar 
planters  at  Porto  Rico  might  like  a  bit  of  cheese," 
the  clerk  said. 

"  I  shall  want  some  sugar,  coffee,  molasses,  codfish, 
and  otlier  things." 

"  I  '11  give  you  the  market  price  for  all  your  cheeses, 
and  make  fair  rates  on  what  you  want  from  us." 

'•'  I  cant  let  you  have  all.  I  must  reserve  two  of 
the  best." 

"  May  I  ask  why  you  witlihold  two?  " 

"  Because  my  father  wishes  to  present  one  to  Mr. 
Samuel  Adams  and  the  other  to  Doctor  Joseph  War- 
ren, who  are  doing  so  much  to  preserve  the  rights  of 
the  Colonies." 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON. 


23 


lesa  2 

ItfO  3  S,uAerwmimMrS 

16Sf  5  WrOIMSJua 

^7Ji  8  BridanU 

2Z1S  9  Xntok 

J7iZ 


"  Your  father's  name  is  "  — 
"Joshua  Walden,  "  said  Robert. 
"  Oh  yes,  I  remember  him  well.     He  was  down  here 
last  winter  and  I  bought  his  load.     He  had  a  barrel 


24         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

of  apple-sauce,  and  Mr.  Hancock  liked  it  so  well  he 
took  it  for  his  own  table.  There  is  Mr.  Hancock, 
now,"  said  the  clerk,  as  a  chaise  drove  up  and  halted 
before  the  door. 

Robert  saw  a  tall  young  man,  wearing  a  saffron 
colored  velvet  coat,  ruffled  shirt,  buff  satin  breeches, 
black  silk  stockings,  and  shining  shoe-buckles,  step 
in  a  dignified  manner  from  the  chaise  and  hand  the 
reins  to  a  gray-headed  negro,  who  lifted  his  hat  as  he 
took  them. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr,  Ledger,"  he  said  to  the  clerk. 

"  Good-morning,"  the  clerk  replied,  hfting  his  hat. 

"  Well,  how  is  the  Mary  Jane  getting  on  ?  Have 
you  fovmd  an}i;hing  in  the  market  on  which  we  can 
turn  a  penny  ?  I  want  to  get  her  off  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  I  was  just  having  a  talk  with  this  young  gentle- 
man about  his  cheeses.  This  is  Mr.  Walden  from 
Rumford.  You  perhaps  may  remember  his  father, 
with  whom  we  traded  last  year." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  remember  Mr.  Joshua  Walden.  I  hope 
3'our  father  is  well.  I  have  not  forgotten  his  earnest- 
ness in  all  matters  relating  to  the  welfare  of  the  Colo- 
nies. Nor  have  I  forgotten  that  barrel  of  apple-sauce 
he  brought  to  market,  and  I  want  to  make  a  bargain 
for  another  Ijarrel  just  like  it.  All  my  guests  pro- 
nounced it  superb.  Step  into  the  store,  Mr.  Walden. 
and,  Mr.  Ledger,  a  bottle  of  madeira,  if  you  please." 

The  clerk  stepped  down  cellar  and  returned  with  a 
bottle  of  wine,  took  from  a  cupboard  a  salver  and 
glasses  and  filled  them. 

"  Shall  we  have  the  pleasure  of  drinking  the  health 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  25 

of  your  father  ?  "  said  Mr.  Hancock,  courteously  touch- 
ing his  glass  to  Robert's.  '^  Please  give  him  my  compli- 
ments and  say  to  him  that  we  expect  New  Hampshire 
to  stand  shoidder  to  shoulder  with  Massachusetts  in 
the  cause  of  liberty." 

Mr.  Hancock  drank  his  wine  slowly.  Kobert  saw 
that  he  stood  erect,  and  remembered  he  was  captain 
of  a  mihtary  company  —  the  Caxiets. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  take  a  glass  with  you  for 
your  own  health?"  he  said,  refilling  the  glasses  and 
bowing  ^vith  dignity  and  again  slowly  drinking. 

"Mr.  Ledger,  you  will  please  do  what  you  can  to 
accommodate  Mr.  Walden  in  the  way  of  trade.  You 
are  right  in  thinking  the  planters  of  Jamaica  will 
like  some  cheese  from  our  New  England  dairies,  and 
you  may  as  weU  unload  them  at  the  dock ;  it  will  save 
rehandling  them.  We  must  have  Mary  Jane  scud- 
ding away  as  soon  as  possible." 

Mr.  Hancock  bowed  once  more  and  sat  down  to  his 
writing-desk. 

Robert  drove  his  wagon  alongside  the  ship  and  un- 
loaded the  cheeses,  then  caUed  at  the  stores  around 
Faneuil  Hall  to  find  a  market  for  the  yarn  and  cloth 
and  his  wool.  Few  were  ready  to  pay  him  money, 
but  at  last  all  was  sold. 

"  Can  you  direct  me  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Samuel 
Adams  ?  "  he  asked  of  the  town  crier. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  go  through  Mackerel  Lane  ^  to  Cow 
Lane  and  through  that  to  Purchase  Street,  and  you 
will  see  an  orchard  with  apple  and  pear  trees  and  a 
big   house  with  stairs  outside    leading  up  to  a  plat- 

^  Mackerel  Laiif  is  the  present  Kilby  Street. 


26 


DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


form  on  the  roof ;  that 's  the  house.  Do  you  know 
Sam?" 

'^  No,  I  never  have  seen  Mr.  Adams." 

"  Well,  if  you  run  across  a  tall,  good-looking  man 
between  forty-five  and  fifty,  with  blue  eyes,  who  wears 


Samuel    Adams. 

a  red  cloak  and  cocked  hat,  and  who  looks  as  if  he 
was  n't  afeard  of  the  king,  the  devil,  or  any  of  his 
imps,  that  is  ^Maltster  Sam,  We  call  him  Maltster 
Sam  because  he  once  made  malt  for  a  livang,  but  did  n't 
live  by  it  because  it  didn't  pay.  He's  a  master  hand 
in  town  meetings.      He  made  it  red  hot  for  Bernard, 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  27 

and  he  '11  make  it  hotter  for  Sammy  Hutchinson  if  he 
don't  mind  his  p's  and  q's.  Sam  is  a  buster,  now,  I 
tell  you." 

Robert  drove  through  Cow  Lane  and  came  to  the 
house.  He  rapped  at  the  front  door,  which  was 
opened  by  a  tall  man,  with  a  pleasant  but  resolute 
countenance,  whose  clothes  were  plain  and  getting 
threadbare.  His  hair  was  beginning  to  be  gray  about 
the  temples,  and  he  wore  a  gray  tie  wig. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Adams,  is  it  not  ?  "   Robert  asked. 

"  That  is  my  name ;  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  Robert  Walden  from  Rumford.  I  think 
you  know  my  father." 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Please  walk  in.  Son  of  my  friend 
Joshua  Walden  ?  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Mr. 
Adams  with  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand. 

••'  I  have  brought  you  a  cheese  which  my  father 
wishes  you  to  accept  with  liis  compliments." 

"  That  is  just  like  him ;  he  always  brings  us  some- 
thing. Please  say  to  him  that  Mrs.  Adams  and  my- 
seK  greatly  appreciate  his  kind  remembrance  of  us." 

A  tall  lady  with  a  comely  countenance  was  descend- 
ing the  hall  stairs. 

"  Wife,  this  is  Mr.  Walden,  son  of  om-  old  friend ; 
just  see  what  he  has  brought  us." 

Robert  lifted  his  hat  and  was  recognizetl  by  a  gra- 
cious courtesy. 

"  How  good  eveiybody  is  to  us.  The  ravens  fed 
Elijah,  but  I  don't  believe  they  brought  cheese  to  him. 
W^e  shall  be  reminded  of  your  kindness  every  time  we 
sit  down  to  a  meal,"  said  Mrs.  Adams. 

Robert  thought  he  never  had  seen  a  smile  more  gra- 


28         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

cious  than  that  upon  her  pale,  careworn  countenance.^ 
He  noticed  that  everything-  about  the  room  was  plain, 
but  neat  and  tidy.  Upon  a  shelf  were  the  Bible,  Bun- 
yan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  a  volume  of  Reverend 
Mr.  South's  sermons.  Robert  remembered  liis  father 
said  Mrs.  Adams  was  the  daughter  of  Reverend  Mr. 
Checkley,  minister  of  the  New  South  Meetinghouse,  and 
that  Mr.  Adams  went  to  meeting  there.  Upon  the 
table  were  law  books,  pamphlets,  papers,  letters,  and 
newspapers.  He  saw  that  some  of  the  letters  bore  the 
London  postmark.  He  remembered  his  father  said 
Mr.  Adams  had  not  much  money ;  that  he  was  so 
dead  in  earnest  in  maintaining  the  rights  of  the  peo- 
ple he  had  little  time  to  attend  to  his  own  affairs. 

"Will  you  be  in  town  through  the  week  and  over 
the  Sabbath  ?  "  Mr.  Adams  asked. 

Robert  replied  that  he  intended  to  visit  his  relatives, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brandon,  on  Copp's  Hill. 

*■'  Oh  yes,  my  friend  the  shipbuilder  —  a  very  wor- 
thy gentleman,  and  his  wife  an  estimable  lady.  They 
have  an  energetic  and  noble  daughter  and  a  promising 
son.  I  have  an  engagement  to-night,  another  to-mor- 
row, but  shall  be  at  home  to-morrow  evening,  and  I 
would  like  to  have  you  and  your  young  friends  take 
supper  with  us.  I  will  tell  you  something  that  your 
father  would  like  to  know." 

Robert  thanked  him,  and  took  his  departure. 
Thinking  that  Doctor  Warren  ])robably  woidd  be  visit- 
ing  liis  patients  at  that  liour  of  the  day,  he  drove  to 

^  Mrs.  AdaiDs  was  the  claxi<;'hter  of  Keverend  Samuel  Checkley,  pas- 
tor of  the  New  South  Church,  which  stood  on  Church  Green  at  the 
junction  of  Suninier  and  Ijedford  streets.  She  was  a  woman  of  much 
refinement  and  intelligence,  and  greatly  beloved. 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  29 

the  Green  Dragon,  and  put  Jenny  in  her  stall,  and 
after  dinner  made  his  way  to  the  goldsmith's  shop  to 
find  a  present  for  Rachel. 

Mr.  Paul  Revere,  who  had  gold  beads,  brooches,  sil- 
ver spoons,  shoe  and  knee  buckles,  clocks,  and  a  gi-eat 
variety  of  articles  for  sale,  was  sitting  on  a  bench  en- 
graving a  copper  plate.  He  laid  down  his  graving- 
tool  and  came  to  the  counter.  Robert  saw  he  had  a 
benevolent  face ;  that  he  was  hale  and  hearty. 

"  I  would  like  to  look  at  what  you  have  that  is 
pretty  for  a  girl  of  eighteen,"  said  Robert. 

Mr.  Revere  smiled  as  if  he  understood  that  the 
young  man  before  him  wanted  somethmg  that  would 
dehght  his  sweetheart. 

"  I  want  it  for  my  sister,"  Robert  added. 

Mr.  Revere  smiled  again  as  he  took  a  bag  filled 
with  gold  beads  from  the  showcase. 

"  I  think  you  cannot  find  anything  prettier  for  your 
sister  than  a  string  of  beads,"  he  said.  "  Women  and 
girls  like  them  better  than  anything  else.  They  are 
always  in  fashion.  You  wiU  not  make  any  mistake, 
I  am  sure,  in  selecting  them." 

He  held  ujj  several  strings  to  the  light,  that  Robert 
might  see  how  beautiful  they  were. 

"  I  would  like  to  look  at  your  brooches." 

While  the  goldsmith  was  taking  them  from  the 
showcase,  he  glanced  at  the  pictures  on  the  walls, 
printed  from  plates  which  Mr.  Revere  had  engraved. 

The  brooches  were  beautiful  —  ruby,  onyx,  sap- 
phire, emerald,  but  after  examining  them  he  turned 
once  more  to  the  beads. 

"  They  are   eighteen  carats  fine,  and  will  not  grow 


30  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

dim  with  use.  I  think  your  sister  will  be  delighted 
with  them." 

Robert  thought  so  too,  and  felt  a  glow  of  pleasure 
when  they  were  packed  in  soft  paper  and  transferred 
from  the  case  to  his  pocket. 

With  the  afternoon  before  him  he  strolled  the 
streets,  looking  at  articles  in  the  shop  windows,  at  the 
clock  on  the  Old  Brick  Meetinghouse,  the  barracks 
of  the  soldiers,  —  the  king's  Twenty-Ninth  Regiment.^ 
Some  of  the  redcoats  were  polishing  their  g*un  barrels 
and  bayonets,  others  smoking  their  pipes.  Beyond  the 
barracks  a  little  distance  he  saw  Mr.  Gray's  rope  walk. 
He  turned  through  Mackerel  Lane  and  came  to  the 
Bunch  of  Grapes  Tavern,-  and  just  beyond  it  the  Ad- 
miral Vernon.  He  strolled  to  Long-  Wharf.  The 
king's  warship,  Romney,  was  riding  at  anchor  near 
by,  and  a  stately  merchant  ship  was  coming  up  the  har- 
bor. The  fragrance  of  the  sea  was  in  the  air.  Upon 
tlie  wharf  were  hogsheads  of  molasses  unloaded  from 
a  vessel  just  arrived  from  Jamaica.  Boys  had  knocked 
out  a  bung  and  were  running  a  stick  into  the  hole  and 
lapping  the  molasses.     The  sailors    lounging  on   the 

1  The  troops  were  ordered  to  Boston  in  1765,  in  consequence  of  the 
riots  growing  out  of  the  passage  of  the  Stamp  Act,  the  mob  havmg 
sacked  the  liouse  of  Chief  Justice  Thomas  Hutchinson.  Though  the 
Stamp  Act  had  been  repealed,  and  though  the  citizens  were  orderly 
and  law-al)iding,  the  regiments  remained. 

-  The  Bunch  of  Grapes  Tavern  stood  on  the  comer  of  Mackerel 
Lane  and  King  Street,  now  Kilby  and  State  streets.  Its  sign  was 
three  clusters  of  grapes.  It  was  a  noted  tavern,  often  patronized  by 
the  royal  governors.  In  July,  1770,  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
was  read  to  the  i)eople  from  its  balcony.  After  hearing  it  they  tore 
the  lion  and  unicorn,  and  all  emblems  of  British  authority,  from  the 
Custom  House.  Court  House,  and  Town  House,  and  made  a  bonfire  of 
them  in  front  of  the  tavern. 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  31 

wharf  were  speakiug-  a  language  he  could  not  under- 
stand. For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  was  in  touch, 
as  it  were,  vnih  the  great  world  beyond  the  sea. 

During  the  day  he  had  met  several  of  the  king's 
soldiers,  swaggering  along  the  streets  as  if  privileged 
to  do  as  they  pleased,  regardless  of  the  people.  Two, 
whom  he  had  seen  drinking  toddy  in  the  Admiral  Ver- 
non, swayed  against  him. 

"  Hello,  clodliopper  1  How  's  yer  dad  and  marm  ?  " 
said  one. 

Robert  felt  the  hot  blood  mount  to  his  brow. 

"  Say,  bumpkin,  how  did  ye  get  away  fi-om  your 
ma's  apron-string  ?  "  said  the  other. 

"  He  has  n't  got  the  pluck  of  a  goshn,"  said  the 
first. 

Robert  set  his  teeth  together,  but  made  no  reply, 
and  walked  away.  He  felt  like  jjitching  them  head- 
foremost into  the  dock,  and  was  fearful  he  might  do 
something  which,  in  cooler  blood,  he  would  wish  he 
had  not  done. 

By  what  right  were  they  strolling  the  streets  of  an 
orderly  town  ?  Those  who  supported  the  king  said 
they  were  there  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  the  crown. 
True,  a  mob  had  battered  the  door  of  Thomas  Hutch- 
inson, but  that  had  been  settled.  The  people  were 
quiet,  orderly,  law-abiding.  The  sentinel  by  the  Town 
House  glared  at  him  as  he  walked  up  King  Street,  as 
if  ready  to  dispute  his  right  to  do  so.  He  saw  a  book- 
store on  the  corner  of  the  street,  and  with  a  light 
heart  entered  it.  A  tall,  broad-shouldered  young  man 
welcomed  him. 

''  May  I  look  at  your  books  ?  "  Robert  asked. 


32         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Cei-tainly ;  we  have  all  those  recently  published 
in  London,  and  a  great  many  pamphlets  printed  here 
in  the  Colonies,"  the  young  man  replied. 

••'  I  live  in  the  country.  We  do  not  have  many 
books  in  New  Hampshire,''  said  Robert. 

"  Oh,  from  New  Hampshire  ?  Please  make  your- 
self at  home,  and  look  at  any  book  you  please.  My 
name  is  Henry  Knox,"  ^  said  the  young  man. 

"  I  am  Robert  Walden." 

"  I  am  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Walden,  and  shall  be  glad  to  render  you  any  service  m 
my  power.     Is  this  your  fii'st  visit  to  town  ?  " 

Robert  said  it  was.  He  could  only  gaze  in  wonder 
at  the  books  upon  the  shelves.  He  hatl  not  thought 
there  could  be  so  many  in  the  world.  Mr.  Knox  saw 
the  grovdng  look  of  astonislmient. 

"  What  can  I  show  you?  Perhaps  you  do  not  care 
for  sermons.  We  have  a  good  many ;  ministers  like 
to  see  their  sermons  in  print.  I  think  perhaps  you 
will  like  this  better."  said  Mr.  Knox,  taking  down  a 
copy  of  the  Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments.  "  You 
will  find  it  very  interesting ;  just  sit  down  and  look 
at  it." 

Robert  seated  liimseK  in  a  chair  and  read  the  story 
of  the  Forty  Thieves. 

"  Do  you  think  these  are  tnie  stories  ?  "  he  asked 
when  he  had  finished  it. 

'  Mr.  Knox  was  clerk  in  the  bookstore  kept  by  Daniel  Henchman. 
In  ITTo  he  bej^an  business  on  his  own  account  on  Cornhill  now  Wash- 
in<rton  Street,  upon  the  site  now  occupied  by  the  Globe  newspaper. 
His  store  was  freijuented  by  the  officers  of  the  reginaents,  and  doubt- 
less he  obtained  from  thein  information  that  he  turned  to  "food  account 
diiriiia  the  war. 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  33 

Mr.  Knox  replied  they  were  true  in  so  far  as  they 
described  the '  manners  and  customs  of  the  people  of 
Arabia  and  Persia.  He  did  not  doubt  the  stories  had 
been  told  in  Babylon,  Nineveh,  and  Damascus,  and  he 
might  think  of  the  people  in  those  cities  sitting  in  the 
calm  evenings  under  the  almond-trees  on  the  banks  of 
the  Euphrates  or  the  river  Abana  listening  to  the 
story-teller,  who  probably  did  his  best  to  make  the 
story  entertaining. 

"Doubtless,"  said  Mr.  Knox,  "we  think  it  would 
not  be  possible  for  things  to  happen  as  they  are  nai'- 
rated,  but  I  am  not  quite  sure  about  that.  One  of  the 
stories,  for  instance,  tells  how  a  man  went  through  the 
air  on  a  carpet.  We  think  it  cannot  be  true,  but  here 
is  a  pamphlet  which  tells  how  Henry  Cavendish,  in 
England,  a  little  while  ago  discovered  a  gas  which  he 
calls  hydrogen.  It  is  ten  times  lighter  than  air  — 
so  light  that  another  gentleman,  Mr.  Black,  filled  a 
bag  with  it  which  took  him  off  his  feet  and  carried 
him  round  the  room,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  who 
beheld  it.  I  should  n't  be  surprised  if  by  and  by  we 
shall  be  able  to  travel  through  the  air  by  a  bag  filled 
with  such  gas." 

Robert  listened  with  intense  interest,  not  being  able 
to  comprehend  how  anjiihing  could  be  lighter  than 
air.  He  was  not  quite  sure  that  his  father  and  mo- 
ther woiUd  approve  of  his  reading  a  book  that  was  not 
strictly  true,  and  he  was  sure  that  the  good  minister 
and  deacons  of  the  church  would  shake  their  heads 
solemnly  were  they  to  know  it ;  but  he  could  read  it 
on  his  way  home  and  hide  it  in  the  haymow  and  read 
it  on  rainy  days  in  the  barn.      But  that  would  not  be 


34  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

manly.  No,  he  could  not  do  that.  He  woidd  tell  his 
father  and  mother  and  Rachel  about  it,  and  read  it  to 
them  by  the  kitchen  fire.  Hit  or  miss,  he  would  pur- 
chase the  book. 

Mr.  Knox  kindly  offered  to  show  him  the  Town 
House.  They  crossed  the  street,  and  entered  the 
council  chamber.  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson 
and  the  members  of  the  coimcil  were  sitting  in  their 
armchairs,  wearing  white  wigs  and  scarlet  cloaks^ 
Their  gold-laced  hats  were  lying  on  their  desks.  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Dalrymple,  commanding  the  king's 
troops,  was  seated  by  the  side  of  Governor  Hutchinson 
as  a  visitor.  Upon  the  walls  were  portraits  of  Kings 
Charles  II.  and  James  II.  in  gilded  frames ;  also  ix)r- 
traits  of  Governors  Winthrop,  Endicott,  and  Bi'ad- 
street. 

Thanking  Mr.  Knox  for  his  kindness,  Robert  passed 
into  the  street,  took  a  look  at  the  stocks  and  pillory, 
and  wondered  if  that  was  the  best  way  to  punish  those 
who  had  coimnitted  petty  offenses. 

He  saw  a  girl  tripping  along  the  street.  A  young 
lieutenant  in  command  of  the  sentinels  around  the 
Town  House  stared  iiidely  at  her.  In  contrast  to  the 
leering  look  of  the  officer,  the  negro  servants  filling 
their  pails  at  the  pump  were  very  respectful  in  giving 
her  room  to  pass.  He  saw  the  two  soldiers  who  had 
attempted  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him  on  the  wharf, 
emerge  from  an  alley.  One  chucked  the  young  lady 
under  the  chin  :  the  other  threw  his  arm  around  her 
and  atteni])ted  to  steal  a  kiss.  Robert  heard  a  ^vild 
cry.  and  saw  her  struggle  to  be  free.  With  a  bound 
\\v  was  by  hei-  side,     llis  right  ann  swung  through 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  35 

the  air,  and  his  clenched  fist  came  down  like  a  sledge- 
hammer upon  the  head  of  the  iiiffian,  felling  him  to 
the  earth.  The  next  moment  the  other  was  picked  up 
and  plunged  headforemost  into  the  watering-trough. 
No  word  had  been  spoken.  The  girl,  as  if  not  com- 
prehending what  had  happened,  stood  amazed  before 
hun. 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  never  shall  forget  your  kind- 
ness," she  said,  dropping  a  low  courtesy  and  walking 
i"apidly  up  Queen  Street. 

Never  before  had  he  seen  a  face  like  hers,  a  counte- 
nance that  would  not  fade  from  memory,  although  he 
saw  it  but  a  moment. 

Suddenly  he  found  himself  confronted  by  the  lieu- 
tenant, who  came  running  from  the  Town  House,  with 
flashing  eyes  and  drawn  sword.  Robert  did  not  run, 
but  looked  him  squarely  in  the  face. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  "  — 

The  remainder  of  the  sentence  is  not  recorded :  the 
printed  page  is  cleaner  \Nithout  it 

"  I  meant  to  teach  the  xnllains  not  to  insidt  a  lady." 

"  I  've  a  good  mind  to  split  your  skull  open,"  said 
the  lieutenant,  white  with  rage,  but  not  knowing  wha*^ 
to  make  of  a  man  so  calm  and  resolute. 

"  Let  me  get  at  him !  Let  me  get  at  him  I  I  'L 
knock  the  daylight  out  of  liim."  shouted  the  fellow 
whom  Robert  had  felled  to  the  gi-ound,  but  who  had 
risen  and  stood  with  clenched  fists.  The  other,  the 
while,  was  clambering  from  the  trough,  wiping  the 
water  from  his  face  and  ready  to  rush  upon  Robert, 
angered  all  the  more  by  the  jeei*s  of  the  giinning 
neg'voes 


36         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  What  is  all  this  about  ?  " 

It  was  Lieutenant-Colonel  Dalrymple  speaking. 
He  had  seen  the  commotion  from  the  window  of  the 
council  chamber,  and  hastened  to  the  scene.  "  Put  up 
your  sword,"  he  said  to  the  Ueutenant. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing,  sir  ?  "  he  asked,  turn- 
ing sternly  to  Robert. 

"  Suppose  you  first  ask  those  two  fellows  what 
they  've  been  doing  ?  Nevertheless,  Colonel,  lest  you 
might  not  get  a  true  answer,  allow  me  to  say  that 
they  insidted  a  lady,  that  I  knocked  one  down  and 
tossed  the  other  into  the  watering-trough,  to  teach 
them  better  manners.  For  doing  it  your  lieutenant 
has  seen  fit  to  draw  his  sword  and  threaten  to  split 
my  head  open." 

It  was  said  quietly  and  calmly. 

"•  What  have  you  to  say  to  that  ? "  Colonel  Dal- 
rjTiiple  asked,  addressing  the  soldiers,  who  made  no 
reply. 

"  Lieutenant,  take  them  to  the  guardhouse,  and 
consider  yourself  under  arrest  till  I  can  look  into  this 
niatter.  Don't  you  know  better  than  to  draw  your 
sword  against  a  citizen  in  this  way  ?  " 

The  lieutenant  made  no  reply,  but  looked  savagely 
at  Robert,  as  if  to  say,  "  I  'U  have  it  out  with  you 
sometime,"  sheathed  his  sword  and  turned  away,  fol- 
lowing the  crestfallen  soldiers  to  the  guardhouse. 

Colonel  Dalrymple  bowed  courteousl)^,  as  if  to  apol- 
ogize for  the  insult  to  tlie  lady.  Robert  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  a  gentleman. 

The  negi'oes  were  laughing  and  chuckling  and  tell- 
ing the  rapidly  gathering  crowd  what  had  liappened. 


FIRST  DAY  IN  BOSTON.  37 

Robert,  having  no  desire  to  be  made  conspicuous, 
walked  up  Queen  Street.  He  tarried  a  moment  to 
look  at  the  iron-grated  windows  and  double-bolted 
doors  of  the  jail,  then  turned  down  HanOver  Street 
and  made  his  way  to  the  Green  Dragon. 


III. 

THE    SONS   OF   LIBERTY. 

"  Is  it  far  to  Doctor  Warren's  house  ?  "  Robert 
asked  of  the  landlord  after  supper. 

"  Oh  no,  only  a  few  steps  around  the  corner  on 
Hanover  Street.  So  you  are  going  to  call  on  him, 
just  as  your  father  always  does.  You  will  find  him  a 
nice  gentleman.  He  is  kind  to  the  poor,  charging 
little  or  nothing  when  they  are  sick  and  need  doctor- 
ing. He  is  n't  quite  thirty  years  old,  but  there  is  n't 
a  doctor  in  town  that  has  a  larger  practice.  He  is  a 
true  patriot.  I  heard  a  man  say  the  other  day  that 
if  Joe  Warren  would  only  let  politics  alone  he  would 
soon  be  riding  in  his  own  coach.  The  rich  Tories 
don't  like  him  much.  They  say  it  was  he  who  gave 
Governor  Bernard  such  a  scorching  in  Ben  Edes's 
newspaper  awhile  ago.  He  is  eloquent  when  he  gets 
fired  up.  You  ought  to  hear  him  in  town  meeting ; 
you  won't  find  him  stuck  up  one  mite ;  you  can  talk 
with  him  just  as  you  do  with  me." 

With  the  cheese  under  his  arm  Robert  walked 
along  Hanover  Street  to  Doctor  Warren's  house.^     It 

^  The  home  of  Doctor  Warren  stood  upon  the  spot  now  occupied 
l)y  tlie  American  House.  It  was  a  jjlain  structure  and  was  surrounded 
by  a  garden.  Mrs.  Warren  —  Elizabeth  Hooton  before  marriage  — 
was  till?  (Iaii<;hter  of  Richard  Ilooton.  a  merchant  posses.sing  large 


THE  SONS  OF  LIBERTY.  39 

was  a  wooden  building  standing  end  to  the  road. 
Entering  a  small  yard,  lie  rattled  the  knocker  on  the 
door.     The  doctor  opened  it. 

"Good-evening;  will  you  walk  in?"  he  said.  It 
was  a  pleasant,  cheery  voice,  one  to  make  a  sick  person 
feel  well. 

"  Please  step  into  the  office." 

Robert  entered  a  room  smelling  of  rhubarb,  jalap, 
ipecac,  and  other  medicines  in  bottles  and  packages  on 
the  shelves. 

Sincere  and  hearty  were  the  thanks  of  Doctor  War- 
ren for  the  present. 

"  I  want  Mrs.  Warren  to  make  your  acquaintance," 
he  said. 

A  beautiful  woman  entered  and  gave  Robert  a  cor- 
dial greeting. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  bring  us  such  a  gift.  It 
is  not  the  first  time  your  father  has  made  us  happy," 
she  said.  "  We  must  find  some  way,  husband,  to  let 
Mr.  Walden  know  we  appreciate  his  kindness." 

"  That  is  so,  wife." 

"  We  live  so  far  away,"  said  Robert,  "  we  do  not 
know  what  is  going  on.  Father  wishes  me  especially 
to  learn  the  latest  news  from  London  in  regard  to  the 
proposed  tax  on  tea,  and  what  the  Colonies  are  going 
to  do  about  it." 

"  That  is  a  very  important  matter,"  the  doctor  re- 
wealth.  She  was  beautiful  in  person  and  character.  She  died  May, 
177o.  The  Boston  Gazette  contained  an  appreciative  tribute  to  her 
worth. 

"  Good  sense  and  modesty  with  virtue  crowned  ; 
A  sober  mind  when  fortune  smiled  or  frowned. 
So  keen  a  feeling  for  a  friend  distressed, 
She  could  not  bear  to  see  a  man  oppressed." 


40         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

plied,  "  and  we  are  to  have  a  meeting  of  the  Sons  of 
Liberty  this  evening  to  consider  what  shall  be  done 
in  case  the  bill  now  before  Parliament  becomes  a  law, 
as  I  have  no  doubt  it  will.  I  shall  be  pleased  to  have 
you  go  with  me.  Of  course  our  meetings  are  some- 
what secret.  We  do  not  care  to  have  any  mousing 
Tory  know  just  what  we  intend  to  do.  You  will  have 
a  hearty  welcome  from  the  boys.  It  is  only  a  few 
steps  from  here,  at  the  Green  Dragon." 

"  That  is  where  I  am  stopping,"  Robert  replied. 

"  You  can  say  to  your  father,"  the  doctor  continued, 
"  that  the  redcoats  are  becoming  very  insolent,  and 
we  fear  there  will  be  trouble." 

Robert  said  nothing  about  his  experience  at  the 
town  pump. 

"  Tommy  Hutchinson,"  the  doctor  went  on,  "  is 
acting  governor.  He  is  not  the  hyena  Bernard  was. 
Hutchinson  was  born  here.  He  is  a  gentleman,  but 
loves  office.  I  would  not  do  him  any  injustice,  but 
being  in  office  he  naturally  sides  with  the  ministry. 
He  does  not  see  which  way  the  people  are  going. 
King  George  believes  that  he  himself  is  chosen  of 
God  to  rule  us,  and  Lord  North  is  ready  to  back  him 
up.  The  people  around  the  king  are  sycophants  who 
are  looking  after  their  own  personal  advantage.  The 
ministers  know  very  little  about  affairs  in  the  Colo- 
nies. They  are  misled  by  Bernard  and  others.  They 
are  determined  to  raise  revenue  from  the  Colonies, 
but  ^vill  be  disappointed.  But  we  will  go  round  to 
the  Green  Dragor^." 

They  reached  the  tavern.  Doctor  Warren  nodded 
to  the  landlord,  and  led  the  way  uj)  the  stairs  along 


DOCTOR   JOSEPH    WARREN 


THE  SONS  OF  LIBERTY.  41 

the  hall  and  gave  four  raps  on  a  door.  One  of  the 
panels  swung  open.  A  man  on  the  other  side  said 
sometliing  which  Robert  coidd  not  understand,  neither 
coidd  he  make  out  what  the  doctor  said  in  reply. 
The  panel  closed,  the  door  opened,  and  they  passed 
into  a  large  room  dimly  lighted  by  two  tallow  candles. 
A  dozen  or  more  young  men  were  seated  in  chairs 
around  a  table  smoking  their  pipes.  At  one  end  of 
the  table  was  a  large  punch-bowl,  a  basket  filled  with 
lemons,  a  bottle  of  rum,  a  plate  of  crackers,  and  half 
a  cheese.  One  young  man  was  slicing  lemons  and 
making  rum  punch.  All  clapped  their  hands  when 
they  saw  Doctor  Warren. 

"  I  have  brought  a  yoimg  friend ;  he  is  from  New 
Hampshire  and  as  true  as  steel,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Boys,"  said  Amos  Lincoln,  "  this  is  the  gentleman 
I  was  telling  you  about ;  let 's  give  him  three  cheers." 

The  room  rang.  Robert  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  it ;  neither  did  Doctor  Warren  till  Amos 
Lmcohi  told  how  he  had  seen  Mr.  Walden  at  the 
to\a\  pimip,  knocking  down  one  lobster,  throwing  an- 
other into  the  watering-trough,  and  calmly  confi-ont- 
ing  the  prig  of  a  heutenant.  When  Amos  finished, 
all  came  and  shook  hands  with  Robert. 

Mr.  John  Rowe  called  the  meeting  to  order. 

"  Since  our  last  meeting,"  he  said,  "  a  ship  has  ar- 
rived bringing  the  news  that  the  king  and  ministers 
are  determined  to  levy  an  export  duty  of  three  pence 
per  pound  on  tea :  that  is,  all  tea  exported  from  Eng- 
land will  be  taxed  to  that  extent.  Of  course,  we 
could  pay  it  if  we  chose,  but  we  shall  not  so  choose." 

The  company  clapped  then*  hands. 


42         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  We  have  sent  round  papers  for  the  merchants  to 
sign  an  agreement  that  they  will  not  sell  any  tea 
imported  from  England.  All  have  signed  it  except 
Hutchinson's  two  sons,  Governor  Bernard's  son-in- 
law,  Theophilus  Lillie,  and  two  others.  The  agree- 
ment does  not  prevent  the  merchants  from  selling  tea 
imported  from  Holland.  The  Tories,  of  course,  will 
patronize  the  merchants  who  have  not  signed  the 
agreement,  and  the  question  for  us  to  consider  is  how 
we  shall  keep  out  the  tea  to  be  imported  by  the  East 
India  Company." 

"  We  must  make  it  hot  for  'em,"  said  Mr.  Mackin- 
tosh. 

"  The  tea,  do  you  mean  ?  "  shouted  several. 

There  was  a  ripple  of  laughter. 

"  I  don't  see  but  that  we  shall  have  to  quit  drink- 
ing tea,"  said  Doctor  Warren.  "AVe  drink  alto- 
gether too  much.  It  has  become  a  dissipation.  We 
drink  it  morning,  noon,  and  night.  Some  of  the  old 
ladies  of  my  acquaintance  keep  the  teapot  on  the 
coals  pretty  much  all  the  time.  Our  wives  meet  in 
the  afternoon  to  sip  tea  and  talk  gossip.  The  girls 
getting  ready  to  be  married  invite  their  mates  to 
quiltings  and  serve  them  with  Old  Hyson.  We  have 
garden  tea-parties  on  bright  afternoons  in  summer 
and  evening  parties  in  winter.  So  much  tea,  such 
frequent  use  of  an  infusion  of  the  herb,  upsets  our 
nerves,  impairs  healthful  digestion,  and  brings  on 
sleeplessness.  I  have  several  patients  —  old  ladies, 
and  those  in  middle  life  —  whose  nerves  are  so  un- 
strung that  I  am  ol>Iiged  to  dose  them  with  opium 
occasionally,  to  enable  them  to  sleej)." 


THE  SONS   OF  LIBERTY.  43 

"  Do  you  think  we  can  induce  the  ladies  to  quit 
drinking  it?  "  Mr.  Molineux  asked. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  Mrs.  Warren  will  cheerfully  give 
it  up,  as  wiU  Mrs.  Molineux  if  her  husband  should 
set  the  example,"  Doctor  Warren  replied. 

Mr.  Molineux  said  he  was  ready  to  banish  the  tea- 
pot from  his  table. 

"I  believe,"  continued  the  doctor,  "that  the 
women  of  America  will  be  ready  to  give  up  the  grat- 
ification of  their  appetites  to  maintain  a  great  prin- 
ciple. They  will  sacrifice  all  personal  considerations 
to  secure  the  rights  of  the  Colonies.  Parliament 
proposes  to  tax  this  country  without  our  having  a 
voice  in  the  matter.  It  is  a  seductive  and  insidious 
proposition — this  export  duty.  I  suppose  they  think 
we  are  simpletons,  and  will  be  caught  in  the  trap  they 
are  setting.  They  think  we  are  so  fond  of  tea  we 
shall  continue  to  purchase  it,  but  the  time  has  come 
when  we  must  let  them  know  there  is  nothing  so 
precious  to  us  as  our  rights  and  liberties ;  that  we 
can  be  resolute  in  little  as  well  as  in  great  things.  I 
dare  say  that  some  of  you,  like  myself,  have  invita- 
tions to  Mrs.  Newville's  garden  party  to-morrow  after- 
noon. I  expect  to  attend,  but  it  will  be  the  last 
tea-party  for  me,  if  the  bill  before  Parliament  becomes 
a  law.  Mrs.  Newville  is  an  estimable  lady,  a  hospi- 
table hostess  ;  having  accepted  an  invitation  to  be 
present,  it  would  be  discourteous  for  me  to  inform 
her  I  could  not  drink  a  cup  of  tea  from  her  hand, 
but  I  have  made  up  my  mind  henceforth  to  stand 
resolutely  for  maintaining  the  principle  underlying 
it  all,  —  a  great  fundamental,  political  principle,  — 
our  freedom." 


44         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

The  room  rang  with  applause. 
"  Sometimes,  as  some  of  you  know,  I  try  my  hand 
at  verse-making.     I  will  read  a  few  lines." 

FREE  AMERICA. 

That  seat  of  Science,  Athens, 

And  earth's  proud  mistress,  Rome : 
Where  now  are  all  their  glories  ? 

We  scarce  can  find  their  tomb. 
Then  guard  your  rights,  Americans, 

Nor  stoop  to  lawless  sway  ; 
Oppose,  oppose,  oppose, 

For  North  America. 

We  led  fair  Freedom  hither. 

And  lo,  the  desert  smiled, 
A  paradise  of  pleasure  ; 

Was  opened  in  the  wild. 
Your  harvest,  bold  Americans, 

No  power  shall  snatch  away. 
Huzza,  huzza,  huzza, 

For  free  America. 

Some  future  day  shall  crown  us 

The  masters  of  the  main  ; 
Our  fleets  shall  speak  in  thunder 

To  England,  France,  and  Spain. 
And  nations  over  ocean  spread 

Shall  tremble  and  obey 
The  sons,  the  sons,  the  sons, 

Of  brave  America. 

Captain  jSIaekintosh  sang  it,  and  the  hall  rang  with 
cheers. 

"  It  is  pitiable,"  said  Mr.  Rowe,  "  that  the  people 
of  England  do  not  understand  us  better,  but  what 
can  we  expect  wlien  a  member  of  Parliament  makes 


THE  SONS   OF  LIBERTY.  45 

a  speech  like  that  delivered  by  Mr.  Stanley  just  be- 
fore the  last  ship  sailed.     Hear  it. 

Mr.  Rowe,  taking  a  candle  in  one  hand  and  snuff- 
ing it  with  his  thumb  and  finger,  read  an  extract  from 
the  speech :  "  What  will  become  of  that  insolent 
town,  Boston,  when  we  deprive  the  inhabitants  of  the 
power  of  sending  their  molasses  to  the  coast  of 
Africa?  The  people  of  that  town  must  be  treated 
as  aliens,  and  the  charters  of  towns  in  Massachusetts 
must  be  changed  so  as  to  give  the  king  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  coimcilors,  and  give  the  sheriffs  the  sole 
power  of  returning  juries." 

"  The  ignoramus,"  continued  Mr.  Rowe,  "  does  not 
know  that  no  molasses  is  made  in  these  Colonies.  He 
confounds  this  and  the  other  Colonies  with  Jamaica. 
One  would  suppose  Lord  North  would  not  be  quite  so 
bitter,  but  he  said  in  a  recent  speech  that  America 
must  be  made  to  fear  the  king  ;  that  he  should  go  on 
with  the  king's  plan  until  we  were  prostrate  at  his  feet." 

"  Not  much  win  we  get  down  on  our  knees  to 
him,"  said  Peter  Bushwick.  "  Since  the  war  with 
France,  to  carry  on  which  the  Colonies  contributed 
their  full  share,  the  throne  isn't  feared  quite  as 
much  as  it  was.  Americans  are  not  in  the  habit  of 
prostrating  themselves." 

Captain  Mackintosh  once  more  broke  into  a  song. 

"  Come  join  hand  in  hand,  Americans  all  ; 
By  uniting  we  stand,  dividing  we  fall. 
To  die  we  can  bear,  but  to  serve  we  disdain, 
For  shame  is  to  freedom  more  dreadful  than  pain. 
In  freedom  we  're  born,  in  freedom  we  '11  live. 
Our  purses  are  ready  :  steady,  boys,  steady. 
Not  as  slaves  but  as  freemen  our  money  we  '11  give." 


46         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

The  Sons  again  clapped  their  hands  and  resolved 
that  they  would  drink  no  more  tea.  The  formal 
business  of  the  evening  being  ended,  they  broke  into 
groups,  helped  themselves  to  crackers  and  cheese,  and 
lighted  their  pipes. 

A  young  man  about  Robert's  age  came  and  shook 
hands  w^ith  him. 

"  Did  I  understand  correctly  that  you  are  Robert 
Walden  from  Rumford  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That  is  my  name,  and  I  am  from  Rumford." 

"  Then  we  are  cousins  ;  I  am  Tom  Brandon." 

"  I  was  intending  to  call  upon  you  to-morrow." 

"  You  must  go  with  me  to-night.  Father  and 
mother  never  woidd  forgive  me  if  I  did  not  take  you 
along,  especially  when  I  tell  them  how  you  rubbed  it 
into  the  king's  lobsters." 

The  bells  were  ringing  for  nine  o'clock  —  the  hour 
when  everybody  in  Boston  made  prei^arations  for  go- 
ing to  bed.  AU  the  Sons  of  Liberty  came  and  shook 
hands  with  Robert. 

"  It  is  the  most  wholesome  lesson  the  villains  have 
had  since  they  landed  at  Long  Wharf,"  said  Doctor 
Warren,  who  hoped  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
more  of  Mr,  Walden. 

"  We  must  rely  upon  such  as  you  in  the  struggle 
which  we  are  yet  to  have  to  maintain  oiu'  liberties," 
said  Mr.  Molineux. 

Tom  Brandon  took  Robert  with  him  to  his  home 
on  Copp's  Hill.  Rol^ert  could  see  by  the  light  of  the 
moon  that  it  was  a  large  wooden  house  with  a  hipped 
roof,  surmounted  l)y  a  balustrade,  fronting  the  burial 
ground  and  overlooking  the  harbor  and  a  wide  reach 
of  surrounding  country. 


THE  SONS   OF  LIBERTY.  47 

"  Why,  Robert  Walden !  where  did  you  come 
from  ?  "  Mr.  Brandon  exclaimed  as  Tom  ushered  him 
into  the  sitting-room. 

"  What !  stopping  at  the  Green  Dragon !  Why 
didn't  you  come  right  here,  you  naughty  boy?" 

He  tinkled  a  bell  and  a  negro  entered  the  room. 

"  Mark  Antony,  go  up  to  the  Green  Dragon  and 
get  this  gentleman's  trunk.  TeU  the  landlord  I  sent 
you.  Hold  on  a  moment :  it  is  after  nine  o'clock,  and 
the  watchman  may  overhaid  you  and  want  to  know 
what  you  are  doing.     You  must  have  an  order." 

Mr.  Brandon  stepped  to  a  writing-desk  and  wrote 
an  order,  receiving  which  Mark  Antony  bowed  and 
took  his  departure. 

Mr.  Brandon  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  hale,  hearty, 
vigorous,  a  former  ship  captain,  who  had  been  to 
London  many  times,  also  through  the  Straits  of 
Gibraltar,  to  Madeira,  Jamaica,  and  round  Cape  of 
Good  Hope  to  China.  He  had  seen  enough  of  ocean 
life  and  had  become  a  builder  of  ships.  He  was  ac- 
customed to  give  orders,  manage  men,  and  was  quick 
to  act.  He  had  accumulated  wealth,  and  was  living 
in  a  spacious  mansion  on  the  summit  of  the  hill.  On 
calm  summer  evenings  he  smoked  his  pipe  upon  the 
platform  on  the  roof  of  his  house,  looking  through  a 
telescope  at  vessels  making  the  harbor,  reading  the 
signals  flying  at  the  masthead,  and  saying  to  himself 
and  friends  that  the  approaching  vessel  was  from  Lon- 
don or  the  West  Indias. 

Robert  admired  the  homelike  residence,  the  pan- 
eled wainscoting,  the  fluted  pilasters,  elaborately 
carved  mantel,  glazed   tiles,   mahogany  centre-table, 


48         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

armchairs,  the  beautifully  carved  writing-desk,  the 
pictures  on  the  walls  of  ships  under  full  sail  weather- 
ing rocky  headlands. 

Mrs.  Brandon  and  her  daughter  Berinthia  entered 
the  room.  Mrs.  Brandon  was  very  fair  for  a  woman 
in  middle  life.  Berinthia  had  light  blue  eyes,  cherry 
ripe  lips,  and  rosy  cheeks. 

"  I  have  heard  father  sjjeak  of  you  often,  and  he  is 
always  holding  up  cousin  Rachel  as  a  model  for  me," 
said  Berinthia,  shaking  hands  with  him. 

Tom  told  of  what  had  happened  at  the  town  pump. 

"  The  soldiers  are  a  vile  set,"  said  Mrs.  Brandon. 

"  They  are  becoming  very  insolent,  and  I  fear  we 
shall  have  trouble  with  them,"  said  Mr.  Brandon. 

Mark  Antony  came  with  the  trunk,  and  Tom  lighted 
a  candle  to  show  Robert  to  his  chamber.  Berinthia 
walked  with  him  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

"  Good-night,  cousin,"  she  said ;  "  I  want  to  thank 
you  in  behalf  of  all  the  girls  in  Boston  for  throwing 
that  villain  into  the  watering-trough." 


IV. 


AN   EVENING  WITH   SAM   ADAMS. 


"  How  beautiful !  "  Robert  exclaimed,  as  he  beheld 
the  harbor,  the  town,  and  the  surrounding  country 
from  the  top  of  the  house  the  following  morning. 
Berinthia  pointed  out  the  localities.     At  their  feet 


Copp's    Hill    Burial    Ground. 

was  Copp's  Hill  burial  ground  with  its  rows  of  head- 
stones and  grass-grown  mounds.  Across  the  river, 
northward,  was  Charlestown  village  nestling  at  the 
foot  of  Bunker  Hill.     Ferryboats  were  crossing  the 


60  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

stream.  Farther  away  beyond  fields,  pastures,  and 
marsh  lands  were  the  rocky  bluffs  of  Maiden,  the 
wood-crowned  heights  russet  and  crimson  with  the 
first  tinges  of  autumn.  Eastward  was  the  harbor 
with  its  wave-washed  islands,  and  the  blue  ocean 
sparkling  in  the  sunlight.  White  sails  were  fading 
and  vanishing  on  the  far  distant  horizon.  Ships  were 
riding  at  anchor  between  the  town  and  castle.  South- 
ward were  dwellings,  stores,  shops,  and  the  spires  of 
meetinghouses.  Beyond  the  town  were  the  Roxbury, 
Dorchester,  and  Milton  hills  —  fields,  pastures,  or- 
chards, and  farmhouses.  Westward  rose  Beacon 
Hill,  its  sunny  slopes  dotted  with  houses  and  gardens ; 
farther  away,  across  Charles  River,  he  could  see  the 
steeple  of  Cambridge  meetinghouse  and  the  roof  of 
the  college. 

"  This  is  Christ  Church,"  said  Berinthia,  pointing 
to  the  nearest  steeple.  "  That  beyond  is  the  Old 
North  Meetinghouse  where  Cotton  Mather  preached.^ 
Of  course  you  have  heard  of  him." 

Robert  replied  that  the  name  seemed  familiar. 

"  He  was  one  of  the  ministers  first  settled,"  said 
Berinthia,  "  and  wrote  a  curious  book,  the  '  Magnalia.' 
When  he  was  a  boy  he  picked  up  Latin  so  quickly 
tliat  when  twelve  years  old  he  was  able  to  enter  col- 
lege, graduating  four  years  later.    That  stately  mansion 

^  Historical  writers  have  made  a  mistake  in  speaking  of  Christ 
Cliurch  as  the  Old  North  Meeting-hoxise.  They  were  distinct  edifices 
—  Christ  Church  standing  in  Salem  Street,  the  Old  North  fronting 
North  Square.  Christ  Cliurch  is  the  historic  edifice  from  whose 
steeple  Kuhert  Newman  hung  the  lantern  to  give  notice  of  the  move- 
ment of  the  king's  troops,  April,  1775.  Tlie  Old  North  was  torn 
down  durini;-  the  sieye  of  Boston. 


AN  EVENING   WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  61 

near  the  meetinghouse  was  the  home  of  Lieutenant- 
Governor  Hutchinson.  A  mob  smashed  the  windows 
in  connection  with  the  attempt  to  enforce  the  Stamp 
Act ;  and  it  was  that  which  induced  the  king  to  send 
the  two  regiments  of  sokliers  to  Boston.  The  house 
adjoining  is  the  home  of  Lady  Agnes  Frankland." 

She  told  the  romantic  story  of  Lady  Frankland's 
life ;  how  Sir  Henry,  when  a  young  man,  came  from 
England  to  be  the  king's  collector  of  customs.  One 
day  he  went  to  Marblehead,  and  while  at  the  tavern 
saw  a  girl  scrubbing  the  floor.  She  was  barefooted, 
but  had  a  beautiful  face.  He  thought  that  so  pretty 
a  girl  ought  not  to  go  barefooted,  and  gave  her  money 
to  buy  a  pair  of  shoes.  A  few  weeks  passed,  and 
again  he  saw  her  barefooted,  still  scrubbing  the  floor. 
She  had  purchased  the  shoes,  but  was  keeping  them 
for  Sunday.  Sir  Henry  was  so  pleased  with  her  that 
he  offered  to  give  her  an  education.  A  good  minister 
took  her  into  his  family  and  she  learned  very  rapidly. 
She  in  return  gave  him  her  love,  and  after  leaving 
school  went  to  live  with  him.  He  not  only  owned 
the  house  in  town,  but  a  gTeat  estate  in  the  coun- 
try. He  kept  horses  and  hounds,  and  had  good  wines. 
After  a  while  he  took  Agnes  to  England  with  liim, 
and  from  thence  to  Portugal.  He  was  in  Lisbon  in 
1755,  at  the  time  of  the  great  earthquake,  and  was 
riding  in  his  carriage  when  suddenly  the  earth  began 
to  heave  and  tremble,  and  houses,  churches,  all  came 
tumbling  down,  burying  thirty  thousand  people.  Sir 
Henry's  horses  and  himself  and  carriage  were  beneath 
the  bricks  and  mortar.  Agnes  was  not  with  him  at 
the  moment,  but  showed  her  love  by  running  as  fast 


52  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

as  she  could  and  digging  away  the  bricks  with  her 
own  hands,  finding  him  badly  mangled  but  alive.  He 
thought  he  was  going  to  die,  and  made  a  vow  that  if 
his  life  was  spared  Agnes  should  be  his  lawfidly 
wedded  wife.  His  wounds  healed  and  he  kept  his 
word,  making  her  Lady  Frankland.  They  came  once 
more  to  Boston,  bought  the  house  next  to  Chief  Justice 
Hutchinson,  and  lived  very  happily." 

"  We  will  go  down  to  father's  shipyard,"  said  Tom, 
"  and  you  can  see  the  carpenters  at  work  building  a 
ship." 

They  descended  the  hill  and  entered  the  yard. 
Robert  hardly  knew  what  to  think  as  he  listened  to 
the  clattering  of  axes  and  mallets.  Some  of  the  work- 
men were  hewing  timber  and  putting  up  the  ribs  of 
the  vessel;  others  were  bolting  planks  to  the  ribs. 
The  size  of  the  ship  amazed  him ;  it  was  larger  than 
his  father's  barn.  In  a  few  weeks  the  hull  would  be 
finished,  the  masts  put  in,  the  rigging  rove,  and  then 
the  ship  would  be  launched. 

"  Father  is  going  to  name  her  for  me,  and  I  am  to 
be  the  figureheatl ;  come  to  the  carver's  shop  and  see 
me,"  said  Berinthia  with  sparkling  eyes  and  merry 
laugh. 

They  went  into  a  little  shop  where  a  good-looking- 
young  man,  with  chisels,  gouges,  and  mallet,  was  fash- 
ioning the  bust  of  a  woman.  Tom  introduced  him 
as  Abraham  Dimcan.  Robert  noticed  a  lighting  up 
of  Mr.  Duncan's  eyes  as  he  greeted  Berinthia. 

"  Mr.  Duncan  is  one  of  us.  As  for  that  matter, 
every  man  in  the  yard  is  a  Son  of  Liberty,"  Tom  said. 

"  That  is  me,"  said  Berinthia,  pointing  to  the  figure- 


AN  EVENING   WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  53 


In    the  Shipyard. 

head.  "  1  am  to  be  perched  beneath  the  bowsprit  to 
look  out  upon  the  ocean  and  see  which  way  the  ship 
ought  to  go.  The  waves  will  wet  my  hair,  and  the 
tears  wiU  run  down  my  cheeks  when  the  storms  are 
on.  My  eyes  will  behold  strange  things.  I  shall  see 
the  whales  spout  and  the  porpoises  play,  and  poke  my 
nose  into  foreign  parts,"  she  said  playfully. 

Robert  saw  that  the  carver  had  fashioned  the  face 


54  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

to  look  like  her.  She  had  been  down  to  the  shop 
several  times,  that  he  might  study  her  features.  On 
Saturday  evenings  after  work  for  the  week  was  over 
he  put  on  his  best  coat  and  called  at  the  Brandon 
house  to  look  at  her  as  she  sat  by  the  fireside  with  the 
light  from  the  hearth  illumining  her  face.  Although 
Mr.  Duncan  usually  went  to  hear  Reverend  Mr. 
Checkley  preach,  he  sometimes  strayed  away  to  Rever- 
end Doctor  Cooper's  meetinghouse  in  Brattle  Street, 
and  took  a  seat  where  he  coidd  see  Berinthia's  fea- 
tures in  repose,  as  she  listened  to  the  sermon.  Al- 
though the  minister  was  very  eloquent,  Mr.  Duncan 
was  more  interested  in  looking  at  her  than  hearing 
what  was  said  in  the  pulpit.  Robert  noticed  that  she 
seemed  to  enjoy  talking  with  the  carver,  and  when  he 
went  to  the  other  side  of  the  building  to  get  a  port- 
folio of  drawings  to  show  her  how  the  cabin  was  to  be 
ornamented  her  eyes  followed  him. 

"  Father  says  Mr.  Duncan  is  a  very  talented  young 
man,  and  one  of  the  best  artists  in  town,"  she  said,  as 
they  walked  back  to  the  house. 

After  dinner,  Robert  went  to  the  Green  Dragon, 
obtained  a  chaise,  harnessed  Jenny,  took  in  Berinthia, 
and  crossed  the  ferry  to  Charlestown,  for  a  ride  in  the 
country.  They  drove  along  a  wide  street  at  the  foot 
of  Bunker  Ilill,  and  came  to  a  narrow  neck  of  land 
between  Charles  River  on  the  south  and  Mystic  River 
on  the  north.  The  tide  was  flowing  in  and  covering 
the  marsh  lands.  They  gained  the  summit  of  Winter 
Hill,  gazed  upon  the  beautifid  landscape,  then  turned 
soutliward  toward  Cambridge.  Reaching  the  college, 
they  entered  the  library  and  the  room  containing  the 


AN  EVENING   WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  55 

philosophical  instruments.  Robert  rubbed  his  knife 
on  a  magnet  so  he  could  pick  up  a  needle  by  touchuig 
it  with  the  blade.  They  had  little  time  to  spare,  for 
they  were  to  take  supper  with  Mr.  Samuel  Adams. 
Berinthia  informed  him  that  Mr.  Adams  was  not 
rich,  that  he  was  very  kind-hearted,  and  had  lost  his 
property  thi'ough  kindness  to  a  friend. 

"  He  lives  very  plainly,"  she  said  as  they  rode  home- 
ward. "  We  shall  find  simple  fare,  but  he  will  give 
you  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand.  People  have  faith  m 
him  because  he  is  true  to  his  convictions." 

It  was  supper  time  when  they  reached  Mr.  Adams's 
house. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  see  you,  and  am  glad  to  have  an 
opportunity  for  a  little  talk,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  wel- 
coming them. 

"  We  have  very  simple  fare,  only  mush  and  milk, 
pandowdy,^  and  some  Rumford  cheese  which  is  very 
dehcious,"  said  Mrs.  Adams  as  she  invited  them  to 
the  supper  table.  They  stood  by  their  chairs  while 
Mr.  Adams  asked  a  blessing,  then  took  their  seats. 

"  We  have  abolished  tea  from  our  table,"  he  said. 
"  I  see  no  better  way  of  thwarting  the  designs  of  the 
king  and  the  ministry  to  overthrow  the  Kberties  of 
the  Colonies  than  for  the  people  to  quit  using  it." 

"  Do  you  think  the  people  will  deny  themselves  for 
a  principle  ?  "  Robert  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  unbounded  faith  in  the  virtue  of  the 
American  people.     I  do  not  know  that  we  natui'ally 

^  Pandowdy  was  a  compote  of  apples,  with  several  layers  of  pastry 
made  from  rye  meal,  baked  in  a  deep  earthen  dish  and  eaten  with 
milk. 


66  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

are  more  virtuous  than  the  people  of  other  lands,  but 
the  course  pursued  by  England  ever  since  Cromwell's 
time  has  been  one  of  oppression.  Now  tyranny, 
when  exercised  towards  a  free  and  intelligent  people, 
is  a  process  of  education.  Away  back  when  Cromwell 
was  administering  the  affairs  of  the  nation  a  law  was 
passed,  the  design  of  which  was  to  build  up  the  com- 
merce of  England.  At  that  time  Spain  and  Holland 
were  great  maritime  countries.  The  ships  of  Spain 
were  bringing  gold  from  Cuba,  Mexico,  and  South 
America  to  that  country.  The  ships  of  Holland  were 
bringing  silks  and  tea  from  India  and  China.  Those 
countries  were  doing  pretty  much  all  the  carrying  on 
the  ocean.  CromweU,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
far-sighted  of  all  England's  rulers,  determined  that 
England  should  have  her  share  of  the  trade.  The 
law  which  was  passed  provided  that  no  goods  shoidd 
be  imported  into  that  country  or  exported  from  it 
except  in  English  vessels,  and  the  master  of  every  ship 
and  thi-ee  fourths  of  the  crew  must  be  Englishmen, 
under  penalty  of  forfeiture  of  the  ship  and  cargo. 
The  act  was  passed  in  1651.  In  a  very  short  time 
the  commerce  of  England  was  twice  what  it  had  been. 
The  law  was  not  designed  to  work  any  injury  to  the 
Colonies,  but  for  their  benefit.  The  great  abundance 
of  timber  in  America,  so  much  that  farmers  were 
slashing  down  hundreds  of  acres  and  burning  it,  en- 
abled the  colonists  to  build  ships  very  cheaply,  and  so 
there  was  a  swinging  of  axes  in  all  our  seaport  towns. 
When  Charles  II.  came  to  the  throne  the  royalists 
determined  there  should  be  nothing  left  to  remind  the 
people  that  a  Commonwealth  had  ever  existed.     AU 


AN  EVENING    WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  57 

the  laws  enacted  during  the  period  were  repealed. 
Their  hatred  was  so  great  they  could  not  let  Crom- 
well's bones  rest  in  peace,  but  dug  them  up,  dragged 
them  through  the  streets  of  London,  and  set  his  skidl 
on  Temple  Bar.  Well,  that  did  not  hurt  Cromwell, 
but  it  did  hurt  Charles  II.  and  monarchy.  I  do  not 
imagine  anybody  in  coming  years  will  erect  a  statue  to 
the  memory  of  that  voluptuous  king  or  hold  him  in 
reverence,  but  the  time  will  come  when  Oliver  Crom- 
well will  be  held  in  gTateful  remembrance." 

Mr.  Adams  passed  his  bowl  for  more  pandowdy, 
and  then  went  on  with  the  conversation. 

"  The  meanness  of  human  nature,"  he  said,  "  is  seen 
in  the  action  of  Parliament  immediately  after  Charles 
II.  came  to  the  throne  in  repealing  every  law  enacted 
during  the  period  of  the  Conm^ionwealth.  Having 
wiped  out  eveiy  statute,  what  do  you  suppose  Parlia- 
ment did?" 

Robert  replied  that  he  had  not  the  remotest  idea. 

"  Well,  they  reenacted  them  —  put  them  right  back 
on  the  statute  book.  They  were  good  laws,  but  the 
CromweUians  had  enacted  them  and  they  must  be  ex- 
punged ;  having  blotted  them  out,  they  must  be  put 
back  again  because  they  were  good  laws." 

Mr.  Adams  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed 
heartily. 

"  Now  we  come  to  the  iniquity  of  Parliament,"  he 
continued.  "  Under  the  Commonwealth  the  Colonies 
were  kindly  treated.  Cromwell,  at  one  time,  together 
with  John  Hampden,  thought  of  emigTating  to  Amer- 
ica, but  he  did  not,  and  by  staying  in  England  ren- 
dered   inestimable    service  to    his    fellow-men.     The 


68  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

iniquity  was  this:  Parliament  enacted  a  law  which 
made  each  of  these  Colonies  a  distinct  coimtry,  so  far 
as  commerce  was  concerned.  Greed  and  selfishness 
prompted  the  passage  of  this  act,  which  aimed  to 
make  England  the  distributor  of  all  commerce,  not 
only  between  the  Colonies  and  other  countries,  but 
between  this  country  and  England,  and,  to  cap  the  cli- 
max, England  was  to  control  the  trade  between  the 
Colonies ;  that  is,  Massachusetts  could  not  trade  with 
New  Hampshire,  or  New  York  with  Connecticut,  ex- 
cept by  paying  tribute  to  England.  The  people  were 
no  longer  Englishmen,  with  the  privileges  of  English- 
men, but  outsiders,  foreigners,  so  far  as  trade  was  con- 
cerned. If  a  Dutchman  of  Amsterdam  wanted  to  find 
a  market  here  in  Boston  he  could  not  send  his  ship 
across  the  Atlantic,  but  only  to  England,  that  the 
goods  might  be  taken  across  the  ocean  in  an  English 
ship.  The  merchants  here  in  Boston  who  had  anything 
to  sell  in  Holland,  France,  Spain,  or  anywhere  else, 
could  not  send  it  to  those  countries,  but  must  ship  it  to 
England.  The  fishermen  of  Gloucester  and  Marble- 
head  could  not  ship  the  codfish  they  had  caught  to 
Spain  or  Cuba.  The  people  in  Catholic  coimtries  can- 
not eat  meat  on  Friday,  but  may  eat  fish.  Spain  and 
Cuba  were  good  customers,  but  the  fishermen  must  sell 
their  fish  to  merchants  in  London  or  Bristol,  instead 
of  trading  directly  with  the  people  of  those  comitries. 
You  see,  Mr.  Walden,  that  it  was  a  cunningly  devised 
plan  to  enrich  England  at  our  expense." 

"  It  was  unrighteous  and  wicked,"  Robert  exclaimed. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  it  seems  so  to  you,  as  it 
must  to  every  one  who  believes  in  justice  and  fair  deal- 


AN  EVENING   WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  59 

ing,"  Mr.  Adams  continued;  "but  human  nature  is 
apt  to  be  selfish.  In  1696  Parliament  passed  an  act 
establishing  the  Lords  of  Trade,  giving  seven  men, 
selected  by  the  king,  authority  to  control  and  regu- 
late commerce.^  The  governors  of  the  Colonies  were 
to  carry  out  the  provisions  of  the  act,  which  forbade 
all  traffic  between  Ireland  and  the  Colonies,  and  which 
repealed  all  the  laws  enacted  by  the  colonial  legisla- 
tures relating  to  trade  and  manufactures." 

"  Did  not  the  people  protest  against  such  a  law  ?  " 
Robert  asked. 

"  Yes,  the  Great  and  General  Court  sent  a  protest 
to  London,  but  they  might  as  well  have  whistled  to 
the  wind." 

Mr.  Adams  turned  partly  round  in  his  chair  and 
took  a  paper  from  his  desk. 

"  This  is  a  copy,"  he  continued,  "  of  the  protest. 
It  represents  that  the  people  were  already  much 
cramped  in  their  liberties  and  would  be  fools  to  con- 
sent to  have  their  freedom  further  abridged.  They 
were  not  bound  to  obey  those  laws,  because  they  had 
no  voice  in  making  them.  They  stood  on  their  natu- 
ral rights.  It  would  take  many  hours  to  tell  you,  Mr. 
Walden,  the  full  story  of  oppression  on  the  part  of 
Parliament  towards  the  Colonies,  or  to  picture  the 
greed  of  the  merchants  and  manufacturers  of  Eng- 
land, who  could  not  then,  and  who  cannot  now,  bear 
to  think  of  a  spinning-wheel  whirling  or  a  shuttle  fly- 
ing anywhere  outside  of  England,  or  of  anybody  sell 
ing  anything  unless  for   the  benefit  of  the  men  who 

^  "  The  causes  which  brought  about  the  American  Revolution  will 
be  found  in  the  acts  of  the  Board  of  Trade."  —  John  Adams. 


60  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

keep  shop  in  the  vicinity  of  ThreadneecUe  Street  or 
Amen  Comer.i  The  course  of  England  in  selfish- 
ness and  greed  js  like  the  prayer  of  the  man  who 

said,  — 

"  '  O  Lord,  bless  my  wife  and  me, 
Son  John  and  his  she, 
We  four, 
No  more.' " 

Robert,  Berinthia,  and  Mrs.  Adams  laughed  heart- 
ily. Mr.  Adams  finished  his  mush  and  milk,  and  while 
Mrs.  Adams  was  serving  the  pandowdy  he  went  on :  — 

"  Memory  goes  back  to  my  boyhood.  When  I  was 
ten  years  old  or  thereabouts,  there  were  no  less  than 
sixteen  hat  makers  and  possibly  more  in  this  one 
town.  I  used  to  pass  several  of  the  shops  on  my  way 
to  school.  Beavers  were  plenty  on  all  the  streams  in 
New  Hampsliire  and  western  Massachusetts,  and  the 
hatters  were  doing  a  thri\dng  business,  sending  their 
hats  to  the  West  Indies  and  Holland.  One  of  the 
merchants  sent  some  to  England.  The  makers  of  felt 
hats  over  there  could  not  tolerate  such  a  transaction. 
There  was  a  buzzing  around  the  Lords  of  Trade ;  a 
complaint  that  the  felters  were  being  impoverished  by 
the  hatters  of  America.  Parliament  thereupon  passed 
a  law  to  suppress  the  manufactm*e  of  hats.  Here  is 
the  law." 

Mr.  Adams  read  from  the  paper :  — 

''  No  hats  or  felts,  dyed  or  undyed,  finished  or  un- 
finished, shall  be  put  on  board  any  vessel  in  any  place 
within  any  British  plantations,  nor  be  laden  upon  any 

1  Threadneedle  Street  and  Amen  Corner  —  noted  localities  in  Lon- 
don. 


AN  EVENING    WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  Qi 

horse  or  other  carriage  to  the  intent  to  be  exported 
from  thence  to  any  other  plantation,  or  to  any  other 
place,  upon  forfeiture  thereof,  and  the  offender  shall 
likewise  pay  five  hundred  pounds  for  every  such 
offense.  Every  person  knowing  thereof,  and  will- 
ingly aiding  therein,  shall  forfeit  forty  pounds." 

"  That  is  diabolical,"  said  Robert,  his  blood  begin- 
ning to  boil. 

Mr.  Adams  saw  the  flush  upon  his  cheek  and  smiled. 

"I  see  that  it  stirs  you  up,  as  it  does  every  lover  of 
liberty.  But  I  have  not  given  you  the  full  text  of  the 
iniquitous  act :  the  law  forbade  any  one  from  making 
a  hat  who  had  not  served  as  an  apprentice  seven  years, 
nor  could  a  man  employ  more  than  two  apprentices. 
Under  that  law  no  hatter  up  in  Portsmouth  could 
paddle  across  the  Piscataqua  and  sell  a  hat  to  his 
neighbor  in  Kittery  because  the  hat  was  made  in  New 
Hampshire.  The  hatter  who  had  a  shop  in  Provi- 
dence could  not  carry  a  hat  to  his  neighbor  just  over 
the  line  in  Swansey,  one  town  being  in  Rhode  Island 
and  the  other  in  Massachusetts.  The  law,  you  see, 
was  designed  to  crush  out  the  manufacture  of  hats. 
The  law  applied  to  almost  everything." 

"  I  had  no  idea  that  such  laws  had  been  passed ; 
they  are  abominable ! "  Robert  replied  with  a  vigor 
that  brought  a  smile  to  Mr.  Adams's  face,  who  took  a 
bit  of  cheese  and  smacked  his  lips. 

"  Every  time  I  taste  it  I  think  of  you  and  your  far 
ther,  mother,  and  sister  who  made  it,"  he  said. 

"  I  hope  to  see  them  sometime,"  said  Mrs.  Adams. 

"  I  am  not  quite  through  with  the  iniquity,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Adams.     "  About  forty  years  ago  —  it  was 


62  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

in  1737, 1  think  —  Parliament  passed  what  is  called  the 
Sugar  Act,  which  imposed  a  duty  on  sugar  and  mo- 
lasses, if  imported  from  any  of  the  West  India  Islands 
other  than  those  owned  by  Great  Britam.  Cuba,  as 
you  know,  is  a  dependency  of  Spain  and  St.  Domingo 
of  France.  The  sugar  plantations  of  Jamaica  and 
Guinea  are  owned  by  Englishmen,  and  the  law  was 
passed  to  compel  the  Colonies  to  trade  solely  with  the 
Jamaica  planters.  The  Great  and  General  Court 
protested  that  the  act  was  a  violation  of  the  rights  of 
the  Colonies,  but  no  notice  was  taken  of  the  protest  — 
it  was  thrown  into  the  basket  for  waste  paper.  Since 
the  time  of  Charles  II.  not  less  than  twenty-nine  acts 
have  been  passed,  which,  in  one  way  or  another,  re- 
strict trade  and  invade  the  rights  of  the  Colonies.  I 
suppose,  Mr.  Walden,  you  leach  the  ashes,  which  you 
scrape  up  from  your  fireplace  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  Robert  replied ;  "  not  only  what  we  take 
from  the  hearth  in  the  kitchen,  but  when  we  have  a 
burning  of  a  ten-acre  lot,  as  we  had  a  few  weeks  ago, 
we  scoop  up  several  cart-loads  of  ashes  which  we  leach, 
and  boil  the  lye  to  potash."  ^ 

"  And  what  do  you  do  with  the  potash  ?  " 

"  We  shall  probably  bring  it  to  Boston  and  sell  it 
to  Mr.  Hancock  or  some  other  merchant." 

"  Oh  no,  you  can't  do  that  legally,  because  you  live 
in  New  Hampshire,  and  the  law  prohibits  trade  of  that 
sort  between  the  Colonies.  You  can  take  the  potash 
to  Portsmouth,  and  if  tliere  is  an  English  vessel  in  the 

-  The  leaching'  of  ashes  and  manufacture  of  jjotash  was  a  large  in- 
dnsti  y  during  the  Colonial  period.  In  some  sections  of  the  country 
the  article  was  known  as  "  black  salts."  There  was  one  or  more 
l)ota.sherv  in  everv  town. 


^iV^  EVENING    WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  63 

Piscataqua  you  can  send  it  to  England  and  have  it 
shipped  back  to  Boston  ;  but  it  must  be  in  an  English 
ship,  not  m  one  owned  by  my  good  friend  John 
Langdon,  merchant  in  Portsmouth,  who  is  ready  to 
stand  resolutely  against  all  oppression ;  or  you  may 
pay  the  custom-house  officer  what  it  will  cost  to 
transport  it  to  England  and  back  to  Boston,  and  he 
will  give  you  permission  to  ship  it  direct  to  Boston. 
That  is  the  law ;  but  it  has  been  inoperative  for  sev- 
eral reasons  —  one,  because  it  could  not  be  enforced, 
and  another,  because  Great  Britain  has  been  com- 
pelled to  rely  upon  the  Colonies  to  aid  in  driving  the 
French  from  Canada.  That  has  been  accomplished, 
and  now  King  George,  who  is  not  remarkably  intelli- 
gent, but  pig-headed,  and  his  short-sighted  ministers 
are  determined  to  carry  out  measures,  not  only  to 
obtain  revenue  from  the  Colonies,  but  to  repress 
manufactures  here  for  the  benefit  of  the  manufac- 
tures of  England.  Thanks  to  our  spinning-school,  a 
stimulus  has  been  given  to  our  home  manufactures 
which  will  enable  us  to  spin  and  weave  a  goodly 
amount  of  plain  cloth.  Perhaps,  Mr.  Walden,  you 
may  have  noticed  the  spinning-school  building  in 
Long  Acre,^  near  the  Common  —  a  large  brick  build- 
ing with  the  figure  of  a  woman  holding  a  distaff." 

"  Yes,  I  saw  it  yesterday,  and  wondered  what  it 
might  mean." 

"  Well,  quite  a  number  of  years  ago,  the  Great  and 
General  Court  passed  a  law  for  the  encouragement  of 

1  Long  Acre  extended    from  School    Street  to   the  Common,  and 
was  sometimes  called   Common  Street,    now  a  section  of  Tremont 

Street. 


64  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

spinning,  levying  a  tax  on  carriages  and  other  luxu- 
ries for  the  establishment  of  the  school.  Its  opening 
was  celebrated  on  the  Common.  About  one  hundred 
women  and  girls  came  with  their  spinning-wheels  and 
set  them  to  humming  beneath  the  trees.  The  court 
gave  prizes  for  the  best  work.  At  present  we  buy 
our  broadcloths  and  velvets  in  England,  but  the  time 
will  come  when  we  shall  make  them  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic." 

"  The  spinning-wheel  and  loom  are  going  in  our 
house  from  morning  till  night,"  Robert  said. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it ;  the  road  to  independence 
of  the  mother  country  lies  in  that  direction.  Indus- 
try will  bring  it  about  by  and  by,  but  I  apprehend 
that  other  repressive  and  tyrannical  measures  will  be 
passed.  These  arbitrary  acts  of  Parliament  have  had 
one  lamentable  result,  they  have  made  the  people  of 
the  Colonies  a  community  of  smugglers.  I  am  pained 
to  say  that  we  are  losing  all  correct  sense  of  moral 
obligation  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  government. 
Xo  one  thinks  it  disreputable  to  smuggle  goods  into 
the  country  because  everybody  feels  that  the  laws  are 
unjust.  The  ministry  undertook  to  enforce  the  laws 
against  smuggling  not  long  since,  by  issuing  Writs  of 
Assistance,  as  they  were  called.  That  attempt  was 
more  unjust  than  any  of  the  laws  that  had  been 
passed  regulating  trade.  It  gave  the  custom-house 
officers  authority  to  enter  not  only  stores,  but  private 
dwellings,  break  open  chests,  boxes,  and  closets  in 
search  of  smuggled  goods.  Now  if  there  is  anything 
that  Englishmen  prize,  it  is  the  liberty  secured  by 
Magna   Charta.       Every   man's   house   is   his   castle. 


AN  EVENING   WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  65 

Writs  of  Assistance  violated  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  English  liberty.  Our  great  lawyer,  Mr. 
James  Otis,  has  immortalized  his  name  by  his  mas- 
terly oration  in  opposition  to  the  measure.  The 
writs  have  not  prevented  smuggling ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  regarded  as  almost  a  virtue  and  a  duty  to  circum- 
vent a  government  which  enacts  unrighteous  laws. 
For  instance,  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago,  John 
Hancock's  sloop,  Liberty,  arrived  from  Madeira  with 
a  cargo  of  wine.  The  custom-house  officer  went  on 
board.  He  was  followed  by  half  a  dozen  seaman  be- 
longing to  one  of  Hancock's  other  vessels,  who  locked 
the  officer  into  the  cabin,  unloaded  the  vessel,  all  ex- 
cept a  few  pipes  of  wine,  and  carted  the  cargo  away. 
The  next  morning  the  captain  of  the  vessel  made  oath 
that  half  a  dozen  casks  was  all  the  wine  he  had  to 
deliver  for  payment  of  duty.  The  collector,  Mr. 
Harrison,  and  the  comptroller,  Mr.  Hallowell,  re- 
solved to  seize  the  Liberty.  Admiral  Montague  sent 
a  company  of  marines,  who  took  possession  of  the 
sloop  and  anchored  her  under  the  guns  of  the  Rom- 
ney.  That  incensed  the  people,  who  smashed  in  the 
windows  of  the  office,  seized  the  collector's  boat,  car- 
ried it  to  the  Common,  and  burned  it.  The  revenue 
officers,  fearing  for  their  safety,  fled  to  the  Castle, 
where  they  remained  till  the  troops  arrived  last  Octo- 
ber. Tyranny  begets  resistance  on  the  part  of  the 
people." 

"  What  is  to  be  the  outcome  of  all  this  ?  "  Robert 
asked. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  Mr.  Adams  rephed  thoughtfully, 
"just  what  will  come  of  it,  but  of  one  thing  I  am 


66  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

sure,  the  people  of  America  never  will  be  slaves.  At 
present,  we  have  an  insolent  soldiery  walking  our 
streets,  challenging  and  provoking  the  people.  We 
are  treated  as  if  under  military  law.  The  quiet  of 
the  Sabbath  is  broken  by  the  rattling  of  drums  and 
the  shrill  notes  of  the  fife.  The  soldiers  become  in- 
toxicated, and  are  ready  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  the 
town's-people.  No  lady  can  appear  on  the  street 
unaccompanied  by  a  gentleman  without  danger  of 
being  insulted.  I  expect  that  collisions  will  occur 
between  the  troops  and  people,  and  that  sooner  or 
later  blood  will  be  shed.  You  can  say  to  your  father 
that  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Colonel  George 
Washington  of  Virginia,  who  took  command  of  the 
troops  after  the  wounding  of  General  Braddock  in  the 
battle  near  Fort  Du  Quesne.  He  agrees  with  me  that 
there  must  be  united  action  on  the  part  of  the  Colo- 
nies, and  that  we  shall  be  warranted  in  using  arms  if 
we  cannot  secure  our  lilierties  in  any  other  way.  Of 
course,  we  shall  not  bring  every  one  to  stand  up  for 
the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  Colonies.  Those  who 
in  any  way  are  connected  with  the  crown  —  the  cus- 
tom-house officials  and  their  friends  who  are  in  re- 
ceipt of  salaries  and  perquisites  —  will  support  what- 
ever measures  the  ministry  may  propose.  Then  there 
are  many  gentlemen  who  naturally  will  maintain  their 
allegiance  to  the  king,  who  think  that  an  existing 
government,  no  matter  how  unjust  and  tyrannical  it 
may  be,  stands  for  law  and  order,  and  that  to  resist  it 
in  any  way  leads  to  revolution.  Some  of  my  old-time 
friends  are  siding  with  the  ministry.  They  think 
we  ought  not  to  complain  of  so   small   a   matter  as 


AN  EVENING   WITH  SAM  ADAMS.  67 

paying  a  tax  of  three  pence  per  pound  on  tea.  They 
lose  sight  of  the  great  principle  that  taxation  in  any 
form  without  representation  in  Parliament  is  tyranny. 
We  might  willingly  consent  to  pay  it  had  we  a  voice 
in  making  it,  but  we  will  not  consent  to  be  taxed  with- 
out such  a  voice.  I  am  pleased,  Mr,  Walden,  to  have 
had  this  little  conversation  with  you.  I  rely  upon  the 
yoimg  men  of  the  country  to  stand  resolutely  for  what 
is  just  and  right,  and  I  am  equally  sure,"  he  said, 
turning  to  Berinthia,  "that  the  young  women  will 
give  all  their  influence  to  sustain  the  yoimg  men. 
Mrs.  Adams  is  just  as  ready  as  I  am  to  quit  drinking 
tea,  because  by  so  doing  she  manifests  her  fealty  to 
a  great  principle ;  if  the  mothers  are  ready  to  make 
sacrifices,  I  am  sure  the  daughters  will  be  equally 
ready." 

The  conversation  of  Mr.  Adams  was  very  attractive, 
he  was  so  earnest,  sincere,  and  truthful.  Gladly 
would  Robert  have  listened  through  the  evening,  but 
he  reflected  that  such  a  man  must  have  many  letters 
to  write,  and  he  must  not  trespass  upon  his  time. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  made  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Walden ;  you  must  always  come  and  see  me  when 
you  are  in  town.  I  am  sure  you  wiU  do  what  you  can 
to  stir  up  the  young  men  of  Rumford  to  resist  the 
aggressions  of  the  king  and  his  ministers.  That  there 
are  Hvely  times  before  us  I  do  not  doubt,  but  we 
shall  maintain  our  liberties,  cost  what  it  may,"  he 
said,  accompanying  them  to  the  door  and  bidding 
them  good-by. 

"  I  am  invited  to  a  garden  tea-party  to-morrow  after- 
noon," said  Berinthia,  as  they  walked  home.     "  Is  n't 


68  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

it  curious  that  while  Mr.  Adams  wants  us  girls  to 
leave  off  drinking  tea  for  the  sake  of  a  great  princi- 
ple, I  want  you  for  my  escort  to  the  tea-party.  It 
will  be  a  grand  affair  and  you  will  have  a  chance  to 
see  the  best  people  of  the  town." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  and  will  do  the  best  I  can," 
Robert  repHed. 


V. 

A   GARDEN   TEA-PARTY. 

The  king's  commissioner  of  imposts,  Theodore 
Newville,  had  authority  to  collect  for  the  crown  three 
shillings  per  ton  on  all  vessels  of  not  more  than  two 
hundred  tons  burden,  and  four  shUlings  per  ton  on  ves- 
sels of  larger  dimensions.  He  also  had  authority  to 
reserve  the  tallest,  straightest,  and  largest  pine-trees 
growing  in  the  forests  for  the  use  of  the  royal  navy. 
When  the  king's  arrow  was  blazed  upon  a  tree,^  no 
man,  not  even  the  owner  of  the  soil,  could  fell  it  to  the 
ground.  Every  year,  and  at  times  as  often  as  every 
six  months,  a  ship  arrived  upon  the  New  England 
coast  for  masts  and  spars. 

Mr.  Newville  was  provided  w^ith  an  office  in  the  Cus- 
tom House,  but  his  home  was  on  the  sunny  slope  of 
Beacon  Hill,  a  commodious  mansion,  with  spacious 
rooms  and  ample  hall.  The  fluted  pilasters  with  Cor- 
inthians capitals,  the  modillions  along  the  cornice,  the 
semicircular  balcony,  were  fitting  adornments.  The 
surroimding  lawn  was  smoothly  shaven.  In  the  orchard 
were  apples,  pears,  and  melocotoons  ;  ^  in  the  garden, 
roses,  pinks,  primroses,  daffodils,  bachelor's-buttons, 
and  asters  of  every  hue.     The  morning  sun  streaming 

^  The  arrow  was  the  sign  of  royal  authority  and  ownership. 
^  The  melocotoon  was  a  variety  of  peach.    The  fruit  was  very  large, 
beautifully  colored,  and  of  rich  flavor. 


70  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

into  the  dining-room  illmnined  the  richly  cut  decanters 
upon  the  shelves  of  the  buffet.  Very  attractive,  sug- 
gestive of  ease,  comfort,  and  culture,  was  the  library, 
with  its  books  and  several  portraits  in  gilded  frames. 
The  sun  of  the  afternoon  filled  the  richly  furnished 
parlor  with  its  mellow  light.  The  front  door  opened 
to  a  wide  hall  and  stairway,  with  carved  baluster  and 
polished  mahogany  rail.  A  clock  stood  upon  the  land- 
ing soberly  counting  the  hours.  Having  inherited 
wealth,  with  a  yearly  stipend  and  many  perquisites  of 
office,  Mr.  New^oUe  was  abundantly  able  to  live  in  a 
style  befitting  an  officer  of  the  crown.  The  knocker 
on  the  front  door  was  so  bright  that  Pompey  could 
see  his  own  white  teeth  and  rolling  eyeballs  reflected 
from  the  shining  brass.  When  through  with  the 
loiocker  he  rubbed  the  fender,  andirons,  shovels,  tongs, 
nozzle  of  the  bellows,  the  hooks  by  the  jams,  candle- 
sticks, snuffer,  extinguisher,  trays,  and  tinder-box,  and 
wiped  the  dust  from  the  glazed  tiles  of  the  hearth.  It 
was  the  routine  of  every  morning.  Equally  bright 
were  the  brass  pots  and  pans  in  PhiUis's  realm.  Pom- 
pey and  Phillis  were  bondservants  under  the  mild 
existing  paternal  form  of  slavery. 

The  king's  commissioner  of  imposts  perhaps  would 
not  have  admitted  he  was  passing  the  prime  of  fife, 
but  the  crow's-feet  were  gathering  in  the  corners  of 
his  eyes.  His  gray  tie  wig  was  in  keeping  with  the 
white  hairs  upon  his  brow.  He  had  a  mild,  blue  eye, 
amiable  countenance,  and  dignified  deportment,  as 
became  an  officer  of  the  crown. 

Time  was  in  like  manner  beginning  to  turn  its 
furrows  u])on  the  brow  of  the  lady  who  sat  opposite 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  71 

him  at  the  table,  but  she  was  still  very  fair,  as  many  a 
visitor  had  noticed  while  partaking  of  her  hospitality. 

When  breakfast  was  finished  Mr.  Newville  took  his 
gold-headed  cane  from  its  place  in  the  hall,  adjusted 
his  wig  at  the  mirror  under  the  sconce,  put  on  his 
gold-laced  hat  and  walked  leisurely,  as  became  his  ma- 
jesty's commissioner  of  imposts,  along  Tremont  Street 
to  Queen,  thence  past  the  jail,  the  Town  House,  the 
pillory  and  the  stocks,  to  his  office  in  the  Custom 
House. 

Mrs.  Newville  modeled  her  housekeeping  on  the  last 
chapter  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs.  She  began  each 
morning  with  instructions  to  Phillis  and  Pompey. 
After  breakfast,  she  walked  to  the  market  followed  by 
Pompey  at  a  respectful  distance,  with  a  basket  to 
bring  home  the  marketing.  She  was  fastidious  in  her 
selection  of  meats ;  it  must  be  a  loin  of  beef,  very  ten- 
der, a  chicken  or  duck,  plump  and  fat ;  the  freshest  of 
eggs,  and  choicest  butter.  She  foimd  great  pleasure  in 
dispensing  gracious  hospitality,  inviting  the  governor 
and  lieutenant-governor  of  the  Province,  the  justices, 
councilors,  officers  of  the  army  and  navy,  strangers 
of  distinction  from  other  Provinces  or  from  the  other 
side  of  the  sea ;  reverend  doctors  of  divinity,  lawyers, 
physicians,  citizens  of  standing.  She  gave  garden  par- 
ties on  summer  afternoons,  the  guests  sipping  tea  amid 
the  flowers. 

To  such  an  entertainment  Berinthia  Brandon  desired 
Robert's  company.  The  barber  on  the  corner  of  the 
street  trimmed  and  powdered  his  hair,  Mark  Antony 
smoothed  the  wi-inkles  from  his  coat,  and  Berinthia 
fixed  new  ribbons  in  his  knee-buckles. 


72  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  so  stiff  and  awkward  you 
will  be  ashamed  of  me,"  he  said,  as  she  adjusted  his 
ruffles. 

"  Oh  no,  I  am  sure  your  common  sense  will  come  to 
your  aid." 

"  I  shall  not  know  anybody,  and  shall  feel  like  a 
<;at  in  a  strange  garret." 

"  But  I  will  introduce  you  to  some  charming  people." 

"  I  shall  make  a  fool  of  myself.  I  have  never  been 
in  such  society,  and  shall  not  know  what  to  talk  about. 
If  it  was  like  a  quilting,  such  as  we  have  at  Rumford, 
I  might  get  on,  but  I  know  I  shall  be  the  laughing- 
stock of  the  ladies." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  it.  Just  be  yourself,  that 's 
all." 

The  clock  on  the  Old  Brick  Meetinghouse  was 
striking  three  when  they  passed  it  on  their  way  to  the 
Newville  mansion. 

"  You  will  find  Mr.  Newville  a  courtly,  well-in- 
formed gentleman,"  said  Bermthia.  "  Perhaps  I 
ought  to  tell  you  that  he  is  a  Tory,  which  is  quite  nat- 
ural, when  we  consider  that  he  holds  an  office  under 
the  crown.  He  is  very  discreet,  however,  and  is  care- 
ful not  to  say  or  do  anything  offensive  to  the  Sons  of 
Liberty.  Of  course,  political  questions  are  not  men- 
tioned at  these  enjoyable  gatherings.  We  say  nothing 
about  the  Stamp  Act ;  give  all  like  topics  the  go-by, 
and  just  enjoy  ourselves  socially.  You  will  find  Mrs. 
Newville  a  deliglitful  lady,  and  I  know  you  will  be 
eliarmed  by  Miss  Ruth,  a  lovely  girl,  with  gracious 
ways  and  a  character  all  her  o\\^l.  I  cannot  describe 
her.     Only  intimate  friends  can  know  her  goodness. 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  73 

Few  young  ladies  in  Boston  are  more  accomplished. 
Master  Lovell  ^  is  her  tutor,  visiting  her  after  school 
hours,  to  direct  her  course  of  study.  She  has  been 
through  the  arithmetic,  while  most  of  us  never  have 
been  beyond  proportion.  Having  finished  the  acci- 
dence she  has  begun  Latua ;  she  can  tambour,  make 


Master    Lovell. 

embroidery,  draw,  paint,  play  the  harpsichord,  and 
sing  so  charmingly  that  people  passing  along  the  street 
stop  to  Hsten  to  the  enchanting  music." 

"  You  awaken  my  curiosity.       But  wha*  will  one 
who  knows  so  much  think  of  the  awkward  f eUow  keep- 

^  John  Lovell  was  master  of  the  Latin  School,  in  School  Street, 
from  1717  to  1776.  He  gave  his  sympathies  to  the  crown,  and  be- 
came an  exile  upon  the  evacuation  of  Boston.  His  house  was  near 
the  schoolhouse. 


74  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ing  you  company?  Will  she  not  regard  me  as  a 
simpleton  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed ;  that  would  not  be  like  Ruth  Newville. 
Be  assured,  she  will  do  what  she  can  to  make  it  a 
pleasant  occasion  to  you." 

"  What  can  I  say  that  will  interest  her,  what  talk 
about?" 

"  She  will  enable  you  to  find  your  tongue.  The 
chances  are  that  you  will  fall  in  love  with  her  just  as 
everybody  else  does,  —  colonels,  majors,  captains,  lieu- 
tenants of  the  army  and  navy,  besides  mdowers  and 
bachelors ;  but  Ruth  is  too  sensible  a  girl  to  thi-ow 
herself  away.  Her  mother  would  like  her  to  marry 
some  nobleman,  or  lord  of  ancient  family.  Ruth 
does  not  care  much  for  coats-of-arms  or  titles,  but 
would  rather  be  sure  of  what  a  man  is,  rather  than 
who  were  his  ancestors.     But  we  are  almost  there." 

Many  guests  had  already  arrived.  Ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen were  strolling  beneath  the  trees  in  the  orchard, 
and  along  the  garden  paths.  Pompey  showing  his 
white  teeth,  his  dusky  countenance  beaming  with 
pleasure,  bowed  very  courteously  as  they  entered  the 
mansion. 

"  Massa  and  Missus  Newville  will  welcome  de  ladies 
and  genmens  in  de  garding,"  he  said. 

Berinthia  led  the  way  and  introduced  Robert  as  her 
relative  from  New  Hampshire. 

"  And*  so  you  are  from  that  dependency  of  the 
ciown  ?  What  news  do  you  bring  from  that  Prov- 
ince?" Mr.  Newville  asked. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  anything  particularly 
new  or  interestinff.    Not  much  is  going;  on  there.    We 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  T5 

have  had  a  good  crop  of  hay,  the  com  looks  middling 
well ;  the  rye  is  not  much  rusted.  I  think  we  shall 
not  want  for  bread,"  Robert  repKed. 

"  It  is  excellent  news.  Bread  is  the  staflF  of  life, 
and  I  ti'ust  the  people  will  be  grateful  for  the  boun- 
ties of  Providence,  and  rest  in  peace  and  quiet  under 
the  rule  of  our  gracious  sovereign,  King  George." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  be  truly  thankfid  for  all  that  is 
good,"  Robert  replied. 

"  It  is  very  kind  in  you  to  accompany  our  friend 
Miss  Brandon  to  our  entertainment  this  afternoon ; 
we  gladly  welcome  you,  Mr.  Walden,"  said  Mrs.  New- 
ville,  who  ran  her  eyes  over  him,  and,  so  far  as  Robert 
coidd  judge,  rather  liking  his  stalwart  form  and  figure, 
while  saying  to  herself  that  he  was  no  hawk  or  eagle 
to  bear  off  her  chicken. 

"  Ruth,  daughter,  this  way,  please,"  said  Mrs.  New- 
ville. 

Robert  saw  a  yomig  lady  wearing  a  white  muslin 
dress  turn  towards  them  from  a  gTOup  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen ;  but  it  was  not  the  snowy  whiteness  of  the 
garment,  neither  her  dark  brown  unpowdered  hair  in 
contrast  to  that  of  the  ladies  around  her,  that  attracted 
his  attention,  but  the  hazel  eyes  and  the  lips  that  had 
said,  "  I  never  shall  forget  your  kindness,  sir." 

"  Mr.  Walden,  allow  me  to  introduce  my  daughter," 
said  Mrs.  NewviUe. 

There  was  a  startled,  wondering  look  in  the  hazel 
eyes.  She  courtesied,  with  the  fresh  blood  suffusing 
her  cheeks. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Walden,"  she  said. 


76  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  took  the  liberty  of  bringing  him,"  said  Berin- 
thia.  "  I  was  sure  you  would  extend  to  hun  the  same 
cordial  welcome  you  give  to  everybody." 

"  Certainly,  anybody  whom  you  may  invite  wiU 
always  be  welcome.  Mr.  Walden,  shall  I  serve  you 
with  a  cup  of  tea?  What  kind  will  you  take  — 
shall  it  be  Old  Hyson,  Bohea,  or  Twankey  ?  " 

She  stood  with  a  salver  ready  to  serve  him. 

"  I  will  take  Old  Hyson,  if  you  please,"  he  said. 

The  pink  slippers  tripped  across  the  lawn  to  a 
table  where  Phillis  in  white  apron  and  cap,  with 
smiling  countenance,  was  poui'ing  tea  from  silver  urns 
into  dainty  cups.  So  this  was  the  young  lady  whom 
he  had  rescued  from  the  clutches  of  the  villains. 
What  should  he  say  to  her?  By  no  word  or  look 
must  she  know  that  he  was  conscious  of  having  be- 
friended her. 

The  sun  was  sliining  through  the  branches  of  the 
melocotoon  tree  beneath  which  she  was  standing.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  the  rich  bloom  of  the  ripening 
fruit  by  some  subtle  j)rocess  of  nature  was  being 
transmuted  to'  her  face.  He  recalled  the  description 
of  the  pure-hearted  damsel  that  welcomed  the  Pilgrim 
of  Bunyan's  allegory  to  the  beautiful  palace  in  the 
land  of  Beulah.  She  soon  returned  bringing  with 
steady  hand  the  salver  with  the  tea,  sugar-bowl,  and 
pitcher  of  cream. 

'•  Shall  I  serve  you  with  the  sugar  and  cream,  Mr. 
Walden?" 

He  could  but  notice  the  graceful  movement  of  her 
deft  fingers  as  she  picked  the  sugar  from  the  bowl 
NS'ith  the  silver  tongs,  and  poured  the  creiuu. 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  11 

"  I  will  bring  you  some  confections,"  she  said,  and 
tripped  away  once  more,  returning  with  a  plate  of 
cake  and  bonbons. 

"  I  hope  you  find  the  tea  to  your  taste  ? "  she 
said. 

"  It  could  not  be  better,"  he  replied. 

He  could  see  she  was  scanning  his  face  with  an 
inquiring  look,  as  if  endeavoring  to  solve  a  per- 
plexing question  —  whether  the  stranger  in  working 
clothes  who  rescued  her  from  the  arms  of  the  assault- 
ing soldiers  and  this  gentleman  in  fitting  costume 
for  genteel  society  were  one  and  the  same.  "  Can  it 
be  he  ?  "  was  the  question  revolving  in  her  thoughts. 
The  countrjrman  was  tall,  stout,  and  broad-shoul- 
dered ;  so  was  Mr.  Walden.  She  saw  resolution 
and  indignation  in  the  face  of  the  stranger.  Could 
not  the  face  before  her  exhibit  like  qualities  under 
like  provocation?  She  must  find  out  durmg  the 
afternoon,  if  possible,  whether  or  not  Mr.  Walden  was 
her  benefactor.  If  so,  what  should  she  say  to  him  — 
how  make  kno^vn  her  gratitude  ? 

"  And  so  you  are  from  New  Hampshire,  Mr.  Wal- 
den ?  "  she  said  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  and  this  is  my  first  visit  to  Boston." 

"I  dare  say  you  find  things  somewhat  different 
here  from  what  they  are  there." 

"  Oh  yes.  In  Rumford  the  houses  are  scattered ; 
but  here  they  are  as  thick  as  spatter.  There  isn't 
near  so  many  things  going  on  there  as  here." 

"  I  think  it  must  be  delightful  to  live  in  the  coun- 
try, among  the  green  fields  and  pastures,  and  have 
chickens  and  goslins,  and  see  the  lambs  play." 


T8  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Yes ;  but  we  have  to  look  sharp,  to  see  that  the 
foxes,  and  hawks,  and  weasels  don't  get  'em." 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Berinthia, 
who  introduced  him  to  Miss  Lucy  riucker,^  daughter 
of  the  secretary  of  the  Province,  Miss  Dorothy 
Quincy,  Miss  Mary  Shrimpton,  and  to  Isaac  and 
John  Coffin,^  sons  of  his  majesty's  receiver-general. 

"Do  you  have  garden  tea-parties  in  Kumford?" 
Miss  Flucker  asked. 

"  No,  not  garden  parties,  but  the  ladies  get  to- 
gether in  a  parlor,  sip  their  tea,  take  pinches  of  snuff 
from  each  other's  boxes,  talk  about  the  number  of 
cheeses  they  have  made,  how  much  salt  they  put  into 
the  curd,  how  much  yarn  they  have  spun,  how  many 
yards  of  linen  they  have  woven." 

^  Miss  Flucker  received  the  attentions  of  Henry  Knox  the  book- 
seller, and  became  his  wife.  While  her  father  remained  loyal  to 
the  king',  she  became  an  ardent  patriot,  and  manied  the  man  of  her 
choice.  Soon  after  the  battle  of  Lexington  and  Concord,  Mr.  Knox 
escaped  fi-om  Boston.  Mrs.  Knox  received  a  peniiit  to  join  him,  from 
General  Gage,  who  had  issued  an  order  prohibiting  any  one  from  tak- 
ing arms  from  the  town.  The  patriotic  wife  concealed  her  husband's 
sword  in  her  underskirts,  and  successfully  eluded  the  vigilance  of  the 
sentinels. 

-  Isaac  Coffin  obtained  an  ajjpointment  in  his  majesty's  navy  in  1773. 
Upon  the  outbreak  of  the  war  he  proffered  his  resignation,  not  being 
willing  to  fight  against  his  countrymen,  but  being  assured  he  would 
not  be  sent  to  North  America  remained  in  the  service  of  the  king, 
rising  by  merit  to  the  i)osition  of  rear-admiral.  He  retained  through 
life  a  deep  affection  for  his  countrymen,  and  endowed  a  school  on  the 
island  of  Nantucket. 

His  younger  brother  John,  from  the  outset,  sided  with  the  king. 
He  joined  the  British  forces,  became  captain  of  a  company  of  loj'al- 
ists,  served  under  Colonel  Tarleton  in  South  Carolina,  becoming 
major,  colonel,  and  after  the  war  a  major-general.  He  received  a 
grant  of  several  thousand  acres  of  land  in  Nova  Scotia.  Though 
maintaining-  allcgi.uit'e  to  the  king,  he  had  great  respect  and  admira- 
tion for  tliose  who  espoused  the  patriotic  cause. 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  79 

"  Such  a  party  must  be  very  enjoyable,"  said  Miss 
Quincy. 

"  Yes,  I  think  they  like  to  find  out  what  every- 
body else  is  doing,  and  how  they  do  it.  Their 
tongues  wag  lively  when  they  get  to  talking  about 
what  has  happened  and  what  they  expect  will  hap- 
pen ;  who  was  cried  the  Sunday  before,  and  who 
probably  will  be  the  next  Sunday." 

The  ladies  smiled  at  Robert's  vivacious  conver- 
sation. 

"  Does  the  town  clerk  cry  the  proposed  mar- 
riages ?  "  Miss  Shrimpton  asked. 

"  Yes.  The  moment  the  minister  finishes  the  ben- 
ediction Sunday  afternoon.  Squire  Fellows  breaks  in, 
shouting  that  marriage  is  intended  between  Hezekiah 
and  Mehitable.  Of  course  there  are  blushes  on  Me- 
hitable's  face,  while  Hezekiah  looks  kinder  sheepish." 

Again  the  ladies  laughed. 

"  Do  all  the  ladies  take  snufp  ?  " 

Miss  riucker  asked  the  question. 

"  Nearly  all  the  old  ladies  carry  their  snuff-boxes 
in  their  pockets  or  work-bags.  There 's  one  lady, 
however,  who  does  not  —  Aunt  Hipsy  Jenkins.  Per- 
haps I  ought  to  say  she  is  well  along  in  years,  and 
that  the  town  clerk  never  has  cried  her.  She  carries 
her  nose  as  she  pleases.  She  says  if  the  Lord  had 
intended  it  for  a  dust-hole,  he  would  have  put  it  on 
the  other  end  up." 

A  merry  peal  of  laughter  rang  through  the  gar- 
den —  so  joyfid  that  several  ladies  and  gentlemen 
joined  the  group,  to  hear  what  the  young  man  from 
the  country  was  saying.  * 


80  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"Her  name,"  said  Robert,  by  way  of  explanation, 
"  is  Hepsibah,  but  everybody  calls  her  Hipsy." 

"  Evidently,"  said  Isaac  Coffin,  "  she  is  a  lady  who 
is  up  to  snuff." 

Again  the  company  laughed. 

"You  may  be  sure  she  never  minces  things,  but 
speaks  her  mind,  whether  anybody  likes  it  or  not," 
liobert  replied. 

"  Are  the  gentlemen  invited  to  the  tea-pai-ties  ?  " 
John  Coffin  asked. 

"  Not  to  the  afternoon  parties,  neither  are  the 
young  ladies ;  the  old  ladies  like  to  be  by  themselves 
while  sijjping  their  tea.  Perhaps  they  think  it  would 
not  be  dignified  on  the  part  of  the  gentlemen  to  de- 
vote the  afternoons  to  gossip,"  Robert  replied. 

"  Do  not  the  young  ladies  meet  ?  "  Miss  Shrimpton 
asked. 

"Not  as  do  our  mothers,  but  they  have  their  own 
good  times, — their  quilting  parties.  In  the  country 
every  girl  as  soon  as  she  can  sew  begins  to  make 
patchwork.  When  they  get  enough  for  a  quilt,  they 
invite  their  acquaintances  to  the  quilting,  and  spend 
the  afternoon  in  talking  about  —  well,  I  can't  exactly 
say  what  they  do  talk  about.  Perhaps  you  ladies  can 
tell  better  than  I." 

The  ladies  smiled  at  his  pleasant  way  of  indicat- 
ing what  was  uppermost  in  the  thoughts  of  young 
maidens  on  such  delightful  occasions. 

"Do  not  tlie  gentlemen  participate  in  some  way?" 
Miss  Quincy  inquired. 

"  Oil  yes ;  we  join  them  in  the  evening,  after  they 
are  tluougli  with  the  quilting,  and  try  to  make  things 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  81 

lively.  We  play  blindman's-buff,  hide  the  handker- 
chief, roast  beef  behind  your  back,  come  Philander, 
stage-coach,  and  other  games,  and  have  a  jolly  time. 
The  ladies  serve  us  with  bread  and  butter,  doughnuts, 
cookies,  tarts,  gingerbread,  and  tea.  We  guess  rid- 
dles and  tell  ghost  stories." 

"  How  delightful !  "  Miss  Newville  exclaimed. 

"  A  little  later  than  this  we  have  huskings  in  the 
barns,  seated  around  a  heap  of  corn.  Husking  over, 
we  eat  pudding,  baked  beans,  mince,  apple,  and  pump- 
kin pie,  and  top  off  with  pop-corn,  apples,  and  cider. 
After  supper  the  girls  clear  away  the  dishes ;  then  we 
push  the  table  into  one  corner  of  the  kitchen,  Julius 
Caesar  mounts  it  with  his  fiddle,  and  we  dance  jigs 
and  quicksteps.  The  girl  who  first  found  a  red  ear 
while  husking,  and  was  kissed  before  she  could  throw 
it  into  the  basket,  is  privileged  to  lead  the  dance." 

"  How  I  should  enjoy  it,"  said  Miss  Shrimpton. 

"  Finding  the  red  ear  ?  "  queried  Isaac  Coffin. 

"  Oh  no,  —  you  know  I  did  n't  mean  that ;  but 
having  such  a  jolly  time  with  nobody  saying  it  is  n't 
proper,"  Miss  Shrimpton  replied  with  a  blush  man- 
tling her  cheek. 

"  Ruth,  daughter,"  —  it  was  Mrs.  Newville  calling 
her  to  meet  other  guests,  and  Miss  Newville  turned 
regretfully  away,  for  it  was  a  pleasure  to  talk  with 
Mr.  Walden,  and  she  hoped  he  would  drop  a  word 
which  would  enable  her  to  make  sure  it  was  he  who 
had  befriended  her. 

Robert,  with  Berinthia  and  the  ladies  whose  ac- 
quaintance he  had  made,  sauntered  along  the  garden 
walks.  The  midsummer  flowers  were  gone,  but  those  of 


82  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

autumn  were  in  bloom,  —  marigolds,  asters,  and  sun- 
flowers. Picturesque  the  scene  :  ladies  in  paduasoys, 
taffetas,  and  brocades,  gentlemen  in  purple,  russet,  and 
crimson  coats,  white  satin  waistcoats,  buff  breeches, 
and  silk  stockings.  Officers  of  the  king's  regiments 
in  scarlet  with  silver-starred  epaulets,  clergymen  in 
suits  of  black,  lawyers  and  doctors  in  white  wigs,  loi- 
tering along  the  paths,  gathered  in  groups  beneath  the 
trees,  young  ladies  serving  them  with  syllabubs.  From 
the  vine-clad  arbor  the  music  of  the  orchestra  floated 
upon  the  air. 

Robert  saw  a  gentleman  and  lady  shaking  hands 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newville. 

"  That  is  John  Adams,  one  of  the  smartest  lawyers 
in  town,"  said  Berinthia.  "  That  is  his  wife  Abigail ; 
she  is  the  daughter  of  Reverend  Mr.  Smith,  the  minister 
of  Braintree.  She  knows  Latin  and  Greek,  and  is  one 
of  the  nicest  women  in  town.  She  writes  beautiful  let- 
ters, and  knows  —  oh,  so  much !  I  '11  introduce  you  to 
them.     I  know  you  will  be  charmed  with  her." 

Mr.  Adams  courteously  greeted  Robert,  and  very 
gracious  was  the  recognition  by  Mrs.  Adams.  She  asked 
him  if  he  had  ever  been  in  Boston  before ;  who  was 
the  minister  in  Rumford ;  if  he  had  many  books  to  read. 
So  pleasant  and  agreeable  was  her  conversation,  she 
seemed  to  Robert  to  be  an  old  friend. 

Robert  was  pleased  to  meet  Doctor  Warren,  and 
received  a  cordial  greeting. 

"  And  are  you  acquainted  ? "  Miss  Newville  in- 
quired wonderingly. 

"  I  am  hapi)y  to  claim  Mr.  Walden  as  my  friend. 
1  have  long  known  his  father,"  the  doctor  replied. 


ABIGAIL   SMITH   ADAMS 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY. 


83 


Robert  was  pleased,  also,  to  meet  Mr.  Knox,  the 
bookseller,  who  was  jjolite  and  affable  to  all,  particu- 
larly to  Miss  Flucker. 

When  Berinthia  and  Robert  were  by  themselves 
she  informed  him  that  Mr.  Knox  was  attentive  to 
Miss  Flucker ;  that  her  parents  opposed  the  match, 
Mr.  Knox  being  a  Whig  and  her  father  a  Tory. 
Berintliia  was  sure  that  the  more  her  father  opposed 
the  bookseller,  the  better  Miss  Lucy  liked  him. 


Mr.    Hancock's    House. 


Mr.  John  Hancock,  though  living  but  a  short  dis- 
tance from  Mr.  Newville,  came  in  his  coach  with 
driver  and  footmen  in  blue  livery.  He  bowed  politely 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newville,  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  from 


84  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Mr.  Newville's  gold  box,  and  graciously  greeted  Miss 
Dorothy  Quiacy.  Berinthia  whispered  to  Robert  that 
they  were  engaged  to  be  married.^ 

"  If  Miss  Newville  and  Miss  Brandon  will  excuse 
us,  Mr.  Walden  and  myseK  will  take  a  turn  through 
the  grounds,"  said  Doctor  Warren,  locking  arms  with 
Robert. 

"  I  am  glad  to  meet  you  once  more,  Mr.  Walden. 
I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  good  work  you  did  yes- 
terday afternoon.  I  have  heard  of  it  sevei-al  times ; 
the  people  are  chuckling  over  it.  But  the  soldiers  of 
the  Twenty-Ninth  Regiment  are  as  mad  as  hornets  and 
threaten  retaliation.  They  are  anxious  to  get  hold  of 
that  fellow  from  the  country  who  did  it.  I  thought  I 
would  put  you  on  your  guard.  I  wish  I  knew  who 
the  young  lady  was,  but  no  one  can  find  out.  Neither 
she  nor  her  friends  have  made  complaint  to  the  select- 
men, and  of  course  you  could  not  know." 

Robert  thanked  hun.  He  said  he  did  not  antici- 
pate any  trouble  ;  if  attacked  he  would  try  and  give  a 
good  account  of  himself. 

They  had  strolled  to  the  farthest  part  of  the 
grounds.  Returning,  they  saw  Miss  Newville  sur- 
rounded by  ladies  and  gentlemen  ;  young  and  old  alike 
were  finding  pleasure  in  her  society.  Major  Evelpi, 
to  whom  Robert  had  been  introduced,  was  telling  how 
jolly  it  was  in  old  England  to  foUow  the  hoimds  m  a 
fox  hunt,  leaping  ditches,  walls,  and  hedges,  running 

^  The  Dorothy  Quiiicy  who  married  John  Hancock  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  the  Dorotliy  Q-  of  Holmes's  poem  :  — 

"  Grandmother's  mother,  her  age  I  guess, 
Thirteen  summers,  or  sometliiiig  less." 


DOROTHY    QUIN'CV 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  85 

Reynard  to  cover.  Although  courteously  listening, 
her  eyes  glanced  towards  Robert  and  Doctor  Warren. 

"  Pardon  me,  Major,  but  I  must  have  a  word  with 
my  good  doctor  who  gives  me  pills  and  powders  when 
I  am  sick,"  she  said  graciously,  tripping  across  the 
lawn. 

"I  have  not  served  you  with  tea,  doctor ;  what  kind 
woidd  you  prefer?"  she  said. 

"  WeU,  let  it  be  Old  Hyson,  if  you  please." 

"  And  yours,  Mr.  Walden  :  it  was  the  Old  you  had 
before.  WiU  you  not  try  a  cup  of  Yoimg  Hyson  for 
variety  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  Miss  Newville." 

A  few  moments  and  she  was  with  them  again. 

"Old  Hyson  for  old  friendship.  Young,  for  new 
acquaintance,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  took  the  cup 
from  her  hand.  "  You  see,  Mr.  Walden,  Miss  New- 
viUe  and  I  are  old  friends,  and  our  relations  at  times 
are  quite  intimate.  I  am  privileged  to  hold  her  hand, 
feel  her  piUse,  and  look  at  her  tongue." 

"  Do  you  not  think,  Mr.  Walden,  that  the  doctor 
is  very  rude  to  take  a  young  lady's  hand  when  she 
cannot  help  herseK  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is  rude,  but  I  apprehend  you  do  not 
object,  under  the  circumstances,"  Robert  replied. 

"Oh  no,  she  likes  it  so  well  that  she  often  asks 
when  I  will  come  again,"  said  the  doctor. 

Merry  was  the  laughter. 

"  This  is  delicious  tea,"  he  said,  sipping  the  bever- 
age. 

"  I  am  glad  you  hke  it." 

"  It  is  all  the  more  delicious,  Miss  Ruth,  becaase  I 


86  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

have  it  from  your  own  gracious  hand,  and  because  it 
is  probably  the  last  I  shall  drink  for  many  months." 

She  gazed  at  him  wonderingly. 

"  You  know  I  am  firm  in  my  convictions  as  to 
what  is  right  and  just,  and  I  have  decided  to  quit 
drinking  tea  as  a  protest  against  what  the  king  and 
Lord  North  are  preparing  to  do.  So  this  will  be  a 
memorial  day  for  me.  Pardon  me,  I  did  not  mean  to 
allude  to  it." 

"  One  need  not  beg  pardon  for  having  a  conviction 
of  what  is  right  and  just.  If  it  is  to  be  your  last  cup 
I  'm  glad  I  have  the  jjrivilege  of  ser\dng  it,"  she  said. 

One  by  one  guests  joined  them,  charmed  by  her 
presence,  Major  Evelyn  hovering  around  her.  More 
than  once  the  eyes  of  Robert  and  Miss  NewvUle  met. 
Would  she  not  think  him  rude  ?  But  how  could  he 
help  looking  at  her? 

While  Miss  NewviUe  was  serving  other  guests, 
^vith  Berinthia  and  Miss  Shrimpton  Robert  walked 
the  garden  once  more,  the  great  shaggy  watch-dog 
trotting  in  advance,  as  if  they  were  guests  to  be  hon- 
ored by  an  escort. 

The  afternoon  was  waning.  Guests  were  leaving, 
and  it  was  time  for  Berinthia  and  Robert  to  take  their 
departure. 

''  Oh,  you  are  not  going  now.  I  have  not  had  an 
opportunity  to  speak  a  dozen  words  with  you,  Berin- 
thia, and  I  have  shamefully  neglected  Mr.  Walden. 
I  have  not  had  a  chance  to  drink  a  cup  of  tea  with 
him.  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  me.  Major  Evelyn, 
while  I  redeem  myself.  You  will  find  Miss  Brandon 
delightful  company,"  said  Miss  NewviUe. 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  87 

Major  Evelyn,  being  thus  politely  waved  one  side, 
could  but  acquiesce. 

"  ShaU  we  sit,  Mr.  Walden  ?  "  she  asked,  leading  the 
way  to  seats  and  bringing  tea  and  cake. 

"  I  enjoyed  your  description  of  life  in  the  country, 
and  the  young  ladies  were  delighted,"  she  said. 

"We  have  pretty  good  times  with  the  quiltings, 
huskings,  and  sleighing  parties,  when  we  pile  into  a 
double  pung,  ride  in  the  moonlight,  have  supper,  and 
a  dance." 

"How  delightful!  Have  you  brothers  and  sis- 
ters?" 

"  Only  a  sister,  Rachel,  two  years  younger  than  I." 

"  Does  she  love  flowers  ?  " 

"Yes,  she  is  very  fond  of  them.  I  make  up  beds 
in  the  garden  for  her  and  she  sows  bachelor's-buttons, 
flytraps,  pansies,  marigolds,  hollyhocks,  and  has  morn- 
ing-glories running  over  strings  around  the  sitting- 
room  window." 

"They  must  make  your  home  very  pleasant  in 
summer." 

"  Yes,  and  she  has  asters  and  sweet  peas.  I  try  to 
keep  the  weeds  down  for  her  as  she  has  so  many 
things  to  look  after,  —  the  chickens,  goslins,  young 
turkeys,  besides  washing  dishes,  spinning,  and  wet- 
ting the  cloth  bleaching  on  the  grass.  I  help  a  little 
by  drawing  the  water." 

"It  must  be  very  beautiful  in  the  country  these 
September  days." 

"  It  is  not  quite  late  enough  for  the  woods  to  put 
on  their  brightest  colors ;  that  will  be  in  October." 

"  Which  season  do  you  like  best  ?  " 


88  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  hardly  know.  Sometimes,  when  the  country  is 
covered  with  snow  and  the  air  is  fresh  and  keen  and 
healthful,  I  think  there  is  no  part  of  the  year  more 
enjoyable  than  winter;  then  when  spring  comes,  and 
the  buds  start  and  the  leaves  are  growing,  I  feel  like 
a  young  colt  ready  to  caper  and  kick  up  my  heels. 
When  the  flowers  are  in  bloom  and  the  birds  are  sing- 
ing I  think  there  is  no  season  like  summer.  At  tliis 
time  of  tj^e  year,  when  we  are  gathering  the  harvests 
and  the  woods  are  more  beautiful  than  our  Queen 
Charlotte  in  her  coronation  robes,  I  think  there  is  no 
period  of  the  year  so  delightful  as  autumn." 

"  Living  in  the  town,"  Miss  Ne^wille  said,  "  I  lose 
much  that  I  should  enjoy  in  the  country.  Sometimes 
I  ride  with  my  father  to  Roxbury,  Dorchester,  and 
Cambridge.  He  sits  in  his  chaise  while  I  pick  the 
flowers  by  the  roadside,  A  few  weeks  ago  we  went 
sailing  down  the  harbor,  and  saw  the  waves  rolling 
on  the  beach  at  Nantasket  and  breaking  on  the  rocks 
around  the  lighthouse.     Oh,  it  was  beautiful !  " 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.  As  you  love  the  country 
so  much,  I  am  siu'e  you  would  be  charmed  with  the 
view^  from  our  home.  Miss  Newville,  especially  at  this 
season  of  the  year." 

"  Please  tell  me  about  it.  I  am  sure  from  your 
description  I  shall  be  able  to  picture  the  scene." 

"You  would  see  a  broad  valley,  fields,  pastures, 
meadows,  uplands,  the  river  flowing  between  banks 
fringed  with  elms  and  wiUows,  hills  farther  away,  and 
in  the  distance  blue  mountains ;  the  forest  all  scarlet, 
russot,  yellow,  and  crimson.  That  would  be  the  view. 
You  would  liear  the  crickets  chirjDing,  crows  cawing, 
and  squirrels  barking  in  the  woods." 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  89 

"  How  delightful !  I  know  I  should  revel  in  such 
beauty." 

"You  asked  me,  Miss  Newville,  which  season  I 
liked  best.  I  think,  all  things  considered,  I  enjoy  au- 
tumn more  than  any  other  portion  of  the  year." 

"  May  I  ask  why  you  like  it  best  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  the  harvest-time,  when  we  gather 
the  gifts  of  Providence  ;  and  it  sets  me  to  thinking  I 
ought  to  be  doing  something  for  somebody  in  return 
for  what  Providence  is  doing  for  me." 

Her  eyes  were  watching  his  lips. 

"  Oh,  go  on,  please,  Mr.  Walden,  and  tell  me  what 
the  seasons  say  to  you." 

"I  hardly  know  what  they  say,  but  the  change 
from  the  brightness  of  summer  to  the  russet  of  au- 
tumn, the  falling  leaves,  ripening  fruits,  fading  flow- 
ers, shortening  days,  the  going  of  the  birds  are  like  s 
sermon  to  me." 

"  And  why  are  they  like  a  sermon?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because  the  birds  will  come,  the  flowers  bloom 
again,  but  tlie  summer  that  has  gone  never  will  re- 
turn ;  the  opportunities  of  to-day  will  not  be  here  to- 
morrow. I  must  make  the  most  of  the  present,  not 
only  for  myself  but  for  others.  Providence  bestows 
rich  gifts  ;  I  must  give  to  others." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Walden." 

She  was  silent.  None  of  the  officers,  not  Major 
Evelyn  or  any  of  the  captains  of  his  majesty's  troops, 
ever  had  uttered  such  words  in  her  presence.  Oh, 
could  she  but  know  if  he  were  the  one  who  rescued  her 
from  the  hands  of  the  miscreants !      She  must  know. 

"  Mr.  Walden,  may  I  ask  if  we  have  not  met  be- 
fore?" 


90  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  tWnk  we  have,  Miss  Newville." 

"  I  thought  so,  but  was  not  sure.  May  I  say  I  can- 
not tell  you  how  grateful  I  am  for  the  service  you  ren- 
dered me  yesterday.  I  never  shall  forget  it.  I  have 
not  mentioned  it,  not  even  to  my  parents,  for  I  would 
not  have  them  concerned  in  the  future  for  my  weKare." 

"  I  can  understand  how  anxious  they  might  be,  and 
I  appreciate  your  prudence.  The  incident,  I  under- 
stand, is  making  some  stir  in  town,  especially  among 
the  soldiers.  Doctor  Warren  has  just  informed  me 
of  it,  and  was  kind  enough  to  say  it  woidd  be  well  for 
me  to  be  on  my  guard,  as  the  soldiers  threaten  retalia- 
tion. I  learn,  also,  that  no  one  as  yet  has  been  able 
to  discover  who  the  young  lady  was.  People  are  won- 
dering that  no  complaint  has  been  made  to  the  proper 
authorities  by  her  or  her  friends." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  no  one  knows  it  except  our- 
selves. May  I  not  ask  that  it  shall  be  our  secret,  and 
ours  only  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,  Miss  Newville." 

"■  I  cannot  express  my  obligation  to  you,  Mr.  Wal- 
den.  It  is  very  honorable  in  you,  and  you  will  not  let 
the  soldiers  mjure  you  ?  "  she  said  inquiringly. 

"I  do  not  think  they  will  molest  me.  I  shall  not 
put  myself  in  their  way,  neither  shall  I  avoid  them. 
I  am  a  free  citizen  ;  this  is  my  country.  I  know  my 
rights,  and  I  trust  I  shall  ever  be  enough  of  a  man 
to  resent  an  insidt  to  myself,  and  most  certainly  to  a 
lady." 

"  Do  you  remain  long  in  town  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Xo  ;  only  a  day  or  two  —  over  Sunday.  I  shall 
start  from  the  Green  Dragon  for  home  next  Monday 
nioniin"/" 


A   GARDEN  TEA-PARTY.  91 

"  Do  you  have  melocotoons  in  Rumford  ?  "  she  asked, 
looking  up  to  the  luscious  fruit,  ripening  above  them. 

"  Not  yet ;  we  have  some  young  trees,  but  they  are 
not  in  bearing." 

"  I  should  like  to  send  a  basket  of  fruit  to  your  sis- 
ter, if  agreeable  to  you.  Pompey  will  take  it  to  the 
tavern  Monday  morning." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  I  wiU  take  it  with  pleasure, 
and  you  may  be  sure  Rachel  will  appreciate  your  good- 
ness." 

He  comprehended  her  proposition,  —  that  it  was  her 
delicate  way  of  giving  emphasis  to  her  thanks  for  what 
he  had  done. 

"  Mr.  Walden,  I  shall  always  be  pleased  to  see  you. 
I  would  like  to  hear  more  about  what  you  see  in  na- 
ture, and  the  sermons  that  are  preached  to  you." 

Berinthia  and  Major  Evelyn  joined  them.  The 
band  had  ceased  playing,  and  the  last  of  the  g-uests 
were  departing. 

"  I  hope  you  have  had  an  enjoyable  afternoon," 
said  Mr.  Newville. 

"  I  have  enjoyed  myself  very  much,  and  cannot  ex- 
press my  thanks  for  your  hospitality,"  Robert  replied. 

"  It  was  very  kind  in  you  to  honor  us  with  your 
company,"  said  Mrs.  Newville  with  a  charming  grace 
and  dignity. 

Miss  Newville  went  with  them  to  the  gate.  Major 
Evelyn  improving  the  opportunity  to  walk  by  her  side. 
Robert  thought  there  was  a  shade  of  vexation  on  her 
face. 

"Excuse  me,  gentlemen,  while  I  talk  with  Miss 
Brandon    a   moment,"    she    said,    dropping    behind. 


92  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Robert  walked  on  a  few  steps  and  waited  for  Berin- 
thia.  Major  Evelyn  lingered  a  moment  as  if  to  have 
a  last  word  with  Miss  Newville,  but  jjoliteness  would 
not  admit  his  further  tariying ;  he  lifted  his  hat  and 
walked  away. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Walden,  what  do  you  think  your  good 
cousin  has  been  saying  ?  "  said  Miss  Newville,  calling 
him  once  more  to  the  gate. 

"  Possibly  that  she  has  had  an  agreeable  chat  with 
one  of  his  majesty's  brilliant  officers,"  Robert  re- 
plied. 

"  Instead  of  being  brilliant,  he  was  positively  stupid. 
I  don't  like  epaulets,"  said  Berinthia. 

"  Not  those  sent  to  protect  us  ? "  Miss  Newville 
asked. 

"No." 

"  Neither  do  I." 

The  words  were  spoken  firmly,  with  an  emphasis 
which  Robert  alone  could  understand. 

Miss  NewvUle  locked  her  arm  in  Berinthia's  as  if 
loath  to  have  her  go.  They  lingered  by  the  gate,  how 
long  Robert  could  not  say.  Just  what  was  said  he 
could  not  recall.  He  only  knew  it  was  delightful  to 
stand  there,  to  hear  her  voice,  to  see  the  smiles  rippling 
upon  her  face,  and  the  loving  eyes  that  turned  towards 
him  at  times.  When  at  last  the  good-night  was 
spoken,  when  himself  and  Berinthia  were  quite  a  dis- 
tance, looking  backward  he  saw  her  white  handker- 
chief waving  them  farewell. 


VI. 

CHRIST   CHURCH    CHIMES. 

Calm  and  peaceful  was  the  Sabbath  morning  in 
Rumford,  where  the  stillness  was  broken  only  by  lowing 
cattle  and  singing  birds,  but  in  Boston  Robert  heard 
the  rattling  of  drums,  —  a  prolonged  roll,  as  if  the 
drimimers  found  special  pleasure  in  disturbing  the 
slumbers  of  the  people.  It  was  the  reveille  arousing  the 
troops.  Mr.  Brandon  said  the  officers  of  the  king's 
regiments  seemed  to  take  delight  in  having  extra  drills 
on  Sunday  for  the  purpose  of  annoying  the  people.  A 
few  of  the  officers,  he  said,  were  gentlemen,  but  others 
were  vile,  and  not  to  be  admitted  into  decent  society. 

The  drums  ceased  and  there  was  a  period  of  quiet ; 
then  suddenly  the  air  was  melodious  with  the  music  of 
bells.     Berinthia  saw  the  wonder  on  Robert's  face. 

"  It  is  Christ  Church  chimes,"  she  said. 

He  heard  "  Old  Hundred,"  sweet  and  enchanting. 

"  If  you  woidd  like,  we  will  go  to  Christ  Church 
this  morning." 

Robert  replied  he  would  gladly  go  with  her. 

"  The  sexton  is  a  Son  of  Liberty,  Robert  Newman ; 
you  saw  him  the  other  night  at  the  Green  Dragon  ; 
his  brother  plays  the  organ,"  said  Tom. 

The  sexton  welcomed  them  and  gave  them  seats. 
Robert   gazed  in  wonder  at  the  fluted  columns,  the 


94 


DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


high  arched  ceiling,  the  pillars  supporting  the  gal- 
leries, the  great  windows,  the  recess  behind  the  pulpit, 
the  painting  of  the  Last  Supper.  He  read  the  words, 
"  This  is  none  other  than  the  House  of  God ;  this  is 
the  Gate  of  Heaven." 

The  bells  ceased  their  pealing,  but  suddenly  delight- 
ful music  filled  the  church. 


Christ    Church. 


"  That  is  John  Newman  at  the  organ,"  Berinthia 
whispered. 

It  began  soft  and  faint,  as  if  far  away  —  a  flute, 
then    a  clarinet,  a    trumjiet,  growing  louder,  nearer. 


CHRIST  CHURCH  CHIMES.  95 

deeper,  heavier,  the  loud  notes  rolling  like  far-off 
thunder,  then  dying  into  melody  as  sweet  as  the  song 
of  a  bird.  Never  had  Robert  heard  any  music  so 
delightfid.  Looking  towards  the  loft,  he  saw  the 
gilded  pipes  of  the  instrument.  Upon  the  railing 
around  it  were  figures  of  angels  with  trumpets. 

"  They  were  captured  from  a  French  ship  in  1746 
by  Captain  Grushea  of  the  Queen  of  Himgary  priva- 
teer," Tom  whispered.  "  They  were  designed  for  a 
Romish  church  in  Canada,  but  the  captain  brought 
them  to  Boston  and  presented  them  to  the  wardens  of 
this  church." 

Berinthia  said  the  Bible  and  prayer-book  were 
given  by  King  George  II.  at  the  request  of  Governor 
Belcher.  She  found  the  plaises  in  the  prayer-book 
for  him.  He  thought  the  prayers  very  beautiful,  but 
coidd  not  quite  see  the  need  of  getting  up  and  sitting- 
down  so  often.  He  never  had  taken  part  in  meeting 
before,  but  when  all  the  others  read  felt  he  too  must 
let  his  voice  be  heard,  otherwise  the  people  woidd 
think  he  did  not  know  how  to  read.  He  was  startled 
at  the  sound  of  his  own  voice,  but  soon  got  over  it, 
and  rather  liked  the  idea  of  the  people  taking  some 
part  in  the  service  instead  of  having  it  all  done  by 
the  mmister.  It  was  very  delightful  when  the  choir 
came  in  with  the  organ,  in  contrast  to  the  singing  m 
Rumford  meetinghouse  where  the  deacon  lined  the 
Psalms,  two  lines  at  a  time,  and  set  the  tune  with 
his  pitch-pipe. 

When  the  service  was  over  and  the  people  were  go- 
ing out,  the  organ  began  to  play.  Tlie  sexton  took  them 
upstairs  to  see  liis  brother  John  handle  it.     Robert 


96  DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

was  surprised  to  see  hini  using  his  feet  as  well  as  his 
hands,  fingering  two  sets  of  keys,  pushing  in  and  pull- 
ing out  what  Tom  said  were  "  stops."  When  through 
with  the  piece,  the  organist  explained  the  mechanism 
of  the  instrument,  playing  softly  and  then  making  the 
windows  rattle. 

An  hour  at  noon,  and  then  the  meetinghouse  bells 
were  tolling  for  the  afternoon  service. 

"  We  will  go  to  our  own  meeting ;  I  want  you  to 
hear  Reverend  Doctor  Cooper,"  ^  said  Berinthia.  The 
meetinghouse  was  in  Brattle  Street,  close  by  the  bar- 
racks. The  soldiers  were  loungmg  around  the  build- 
ing staring  at  the  people,  laughing,  smoking  their 
pipes,  and  making  rude  remarks.  When  meeting  was 
over  the  soldiers  gathered  around  the  door  and  leered 
at  the  girls.  Robert  clenched  his  fist  and  felt  his 
blood  grow  hot.  A  lieutenant  started  to  walk  beside 
Berinthia. 

"  My  cousin  will  not  need  your  escort,  sir,"  said 
Robert  touching  his  elbow. 

The  officer  grew  red  in  the  face  and  disappeared  in 
the  barracks. 

On  Monday  morning  Robert  bade  his  friends 
good-by.  Peter  Augustus  had  something  for  him  at 
the  Green  Dragon  :  a  basket  filled  with  fruit  —  melo- 
cotoons,  pears,  and  plums  —  and  a  neatly  written  note. 

1  The  meetingliouse  in  Brattle  Street  at  the  time  of  the  opening  of 
tliis  storj-  was  a  lai^e  unpaiuted  wooden  structure  which  was  torn 
down  in  177-.  and  replaced  by  an  eleg'ant  edifice  of  brick  with  quoms 
of  freestone.  John  Hancock  gave  one  thousand  pounds  and  a  bell. 
The  pastor.  Reverend  Samuel  Cooper,  was  an  earnest  advocate  for  the 
ri<;hts  of  the  Colonies,  and  without  doubt  his  influence,  combined  with 
that  of  Samuel  Adams,  had  much  to  do  in  attaching-  Hancock  to  the 
})atriots"  side. 


CHRIST  CHURCH  CHIMES.  97 

"  Wiil  Mr.  Walclen  kindly  take  a  basket  of  fruit  to 
his  sister,  Miss  Rachel,  from  Ruth  Newville." 

That  was  all.  What  a  surprise  it  would  be  to 
Rachel !  Why  was  Miss  Newville  sending  it  ?  She 
never  had  met  Rachel;  knew  nothing  of  her,  except 
what  little  he  had  said,  yet  the  gift ! 

The  sun  was  going  down  the  following  evening 
when  he  reached  the  turn  of  the  road  bringing  him  in 
sight  of  home.  -He  was  yet  half  a  mile  away,  but 
Rachel  was  standing  in  the  doorway  waving  her 
apron.  She  could  not  wait  for  Jenny  to  trot  home, 
but  came  down  the  road  bareheaded,  climbed  into  the 
wagon,  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  gave  him  a 
hug  and  a  kiss.  There  was  a  look  of  wonder  on  her 
face  when  he  uncovered  the  basket  of  fruit  and  told 
her  who  had  sent  it,  —  a  beautiful  girl,  one  of  Berin- 
thia's  friends,  whom  he  had  rescued  from  the  king's 
soldiers.  There  were  tears  in  Rachel's  eyes  when  he 
put  the  beads  aroimd  her  neck. 

"  Oh,  Rob  !  how  good  you  are !  " 

It  was  all  she  could  say. 

November  came,  and  Berinthia  Brandon  was  sitting 
in  her  chamber.  From  its  eastern  window  she  looked 
across  the  burial  ground  with  its  rows  of  headstones. 
The  leafless  trees  were  swaying  in  the  breeze.  She 
was  thinking  of  what  Samuel  Adams  had  said  to  her, 
that  life  is  worth  living  just  in  proportion  to  the  ser- 
vice we  can  render  to  others.  What  had  she  ever 
done  for  anybody?  Not  much.  A  feeling  of  sadness 
came  over  her.  The  afternoon  sun  was  lengthening 
the  shadows  of  the  headstones  across  the  grass-gTown 


98  DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

mounds.  The  first  snow  of  approaching  winter  was 
lying  white  and  pure  above  the  sleeping  foi-ms  of  those 
who  had  finished  their  earthly  wQrk.  Beyond  the 
burial  ground  she  beheld  the  harbor.  The  tide  had 
been  at  its  flood,  and  was  sweeping  towards  the  sea. 
A  ship  was  sailing  down  the  roadstead  to  begin  its 
adventurous  voyage  to  a  distant  land. 

"  Why  can  I  not  do  something  for  somebody  in- 
stead of  idling  my  time  away  ?  "  she  said  to  herself, 
recalling  what  Mr.  Adams  had  said  —  that  it  was  the 
duty  of  every  woman  to  forego  personal  comfort  and 
pleasure  for  the  promotion  of  the  public  good  ;  that 
everybody  should  leave  off  using  tea  to  let  the  king, 
the  ministry,  and  the  people  of  England  know  that 
the  men  and  women  of  the  Colonies  could  stand  reso- 
lutely and  unflinchingly  for  a  great  prmciple.  With 
her  father,  mother,  and  Tom  she  had  quit  drinking 
tea ;  why  should  she  not  persuade  others  to  banish  it 
from  their  tables  ?  A  thought  came  to  her,  and  she 
opened  her  ^viiting-desk,  a  gift  from  her  father, 
beautifully  inlaid  with  ivory,  which  he  had  obtained 
in  a  foreign  comitiy.  She  dipped  her  pen  into  the 
ink,  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  wrote  her  thought : 
'•'■We,  the  daughters  of  'patriots,  who  have  stood  and 
do  now  stand,  for  the  public  interest,  with  pleasure 
en(/a(/e  with  them  in  denying  ourselves  the  drinhing 
of  foreign  tea,  in  hope  to  frustrate  a  plan  that  tends 
to  deprive  the  coinmunitg  of  its  rights^  ^ 

In  her  enthusiasm  she  walked  the  floor,  thinking  of 
tliose  whom  slie  would  ask  to  sign  it.     She  would  not 

^  Tlie  ap;Teement  sig-iipcl  hy  the  mothers  and  daughters  may  1)6 
found  in  the  Boston  Neivs-Letter,  Fehniary  15,  ITTO. 


CHRIST  CHURCH  CHIMES.  99 

subject  herself  to  ridicule  by  calling  upon  those  who 
sided  with  the  king,  but  upon  those  who  she  knew 
were  ready  to  make  sacrifices  for  justice  and  right. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  written  it,  daughter,"  Mr. 
Brandon  said  when  she  informed  him  of  what  she  had 
done  and  was  intending  to  do  ;  "I  see  no  reason,  wife, 
why  you  should  not  do  what  you  can  in  the  same  way 
among  the  women,  to  let  people  on  the  other  side  of 
the  sea  understand  the  Colonies  are  in  earnest.  Al- 
ready there  has  been  a  great  falling  off  in  trade  be- 
tween the  Colonies  and  England,  and  if  we  can  stop 
this  tea  trade  it  will  not  be  long  before  the  merchants 
will  be  swarming  around  Parliament  demanding  some- 
thing to  be  done.  We  must  arouse  public  sentiment 
on  this  question,  and  you,  daughter,  are  just  the  girl  to 
begin  it." 

Mr.  Brandon  reached  out  his  hand  and  took  Be- 
rinthia's  and  gave  it  a  squeeze  to  let  her  know  he  had 
faith  in  her. 

"  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  persuade  others,"  she 
said,  returning  the  pressure. 

Through  the  night  Berinthia  was  thinking  over 
what  she  had  started  to  accomplish,  and  what  argu- 
ments she  should  use  to  influence  those  whom  she 
woidd  ask  to  sign  the  agreement.  The  great  idea, 
with  a  moral  principle  behind  it,  took  possession  of  her 
mind  and  drove  sleep  from  her  eyes  and  aroused  the 
energies  of  the  soxd.  Why  undertake  the  arduous 
task  alone  ?  Why  not  ask  Doctor  Cooper  to  preach 
about  it  ?  If  she  coidd  but  get  the  ministers  enlisted, 
they  could  awaken  jjublic  sentiment. 

"  Ah !  I  have  it.     Week  after  next  is  Thanksgiv- 


100        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ing,  and  I  will  get  them  to  preach  sermons  that  will 
stir  up  the  people,"  she  said  to  herself. 

Thanksgiving  Day  came.  Very  eloquent  were  the 
words  spoken  for  Justice,  Right,  and  Liberty  by  Rev- 
erend Doctor  Cooper,  Reverend  Doctor  Eliot,  Rever- 
end Doctor  Checkley,  and  nearly  all  the  other  minis- 
ters, excepting  Reverend  Mr,  Coner,  rector  of  King's 
Chapel,  and  Reverend  Mather  Byles  of  Christ  Church, 
whose  sympathies  were  with  the  king.^ 

In  every  household  fathers  and  mothers,  sons  and 
daughters  and  grandchildren,  gathered  in  the  old  home, 
and  had  a  great  deal  to  say,  while  partaking  of  the 
roast  turkey  and  plmn-pudding,  of  the  sermons  they 
had  heard  in  the  different  meetinghouses.  All  the 
ministers  preached  about  the  proposal  of  Parliament 
to  levy  a  tax  upon  tea,  and  that  if  it  could  not  be  de- 
feated in  any  other  way  it  was  the  patriotic  duty  of 
the  people  to  quit  using  the  herb.  They  must  deny 
themselves  the  luxury,  that  they  might  maintain 
their  freedom.  Little  did  they  know  that  a  blue-eyed 
girl  had  called  upon  Doctor  Cooper  and  read  to  him 
what  she  had  wiitten,  an  agreement  to  drink  no  more 
tea  ;  how  his  soid  had  been  set  on  fu'e  and  he  had  gone 
with  her  to  the  houses  of  other  ministers,  that  they 
might  look  into  her  eyes  and  see  the  flashing  of  a 
resolute  spirit  in  behalf  of  justice,  righteousness,  and 
liberty. 

1  Reverend  Andrew  Eliot  was  pastor  of  the  New  North  Church, 
an  edifice  still  standing-  at  the  corner  of  Hanover  and  Clark  streets, 
and  nsed  by  the  Roman  Catholics.  Reverend  Samuel  Checkley  was 
pastor  of  the  New  Sonth  Church,  and  Reverend  Samnel  Blair  of  the 
Old  Sonth.  These  pastors  were  outspoken  in  denunciation  of  the 
offensive  measures  of  the  king  and  his  ministers. 


CHRIST  CHURCH  CHIMES.  101 

Although  the  snow  was  deep  in  the  streets,  the 
drifts  did  not  deter  Berinthia  from  calling  upon  her 
friends.  Many  of  the  good  ladies  were  ready  to  sign 
an  agTeement  to  drink  nO  more  tea ;  others  hesitated. 
She  was  warmly  welcomed  by  Mrs.  Abigail  Adams, 
who  at  once  saw  how  great  would  be  the  influence  of 
the  women  upon  their  husbands. 

"  But  what  shall  we  drink  instead  of  tea?"  asked 
Dorothy  Quincy. 

"  When  summer  comes,  we  will  go  out  into  the 
fields  and  gather  strawberry  leaves,  and  call  them 
Hyperion,  or  some  other  elegant  name.  I  think  it 
quite  as  pretty  a  name  as  Old  Hyson,  and  I  am  not 
sure  that  they  will  not  be  more  healthful,"  Berinthia 
replied. 

Miss  Dorothy  laughed  heartily.  "  Yes,  and  we 
can,  upon  a  pinch,  drink  cold  water  from  the  town 
pump  and  flavor  it  with  peppermint,"  she  said,  as 
she  wrote  her  name. 

After  leaving  Miss  Quincy,  Berinthia  lifted  the 
knocker  of  the  Newville  mansion,  not  to  ask  Ruth  to 
sign  the  agreement ;  she  could  not  do  that,  for  Mr. 
Newville  was  a  Tory,  and  the  signers  were  daughters 
of  patriots. 

"  How  good  it  is  to  see  you  once  more.  It  is  a  very 
long  time  since  I  have  looked  upon  your  face,"  Ruth 
exclaimed,  embracing  her. 

"  The  snow  has  been  so  deep  and  I  have  had  so 
much  to  do,  I  have  not  found  time  to  call  tiU  now,  and 
I  don't  know  as  I  should  be  here  to-day  only  I  am 
spinning  street-yarn  for  a  particular  purpose." 

Ruth  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  her. 


102        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  am  calling  on  my  acquaintances,  and  I  was  not 
quite  sui'e  whether  I  ought  to  skip  you  or  not." 

''  Skip  me  !  What  have  I  done  that  you  should 
think  of  di'opping  me  from  your  acquaintance  ?  " 

Berinthia  saw  a  wondering  and  injured  look  in  the 
loving  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  have  n't  done  anything ;  it  is  what  the 
king.  Lord  North,  and  Parliament  are  doing.  They 
intend  to  make  us  pay  taxes  against  our  will,  and  we 
girls  are  signing  an  agi-eement  not  to  drink  any  more 
tea,  and  I  am  calling  on  my  friends  for  that  pur- 
pose." 

The  look  of  wonder  and  gi'ief  disappeared,  and 
Ruth's  face  brightened  once  more.  She  read  the 
agreement  and  the  list  of  names. 

'•  I  did  n't  call,  dear  Ruth,  to  ask  you  to  sign  it.  I 
have  no  right  to  do  so.  It  is  an  agi'eement  to  be 
signed  by  the  daughters  of  those  who  are  opposed  to 
being  taxed  in  this  way.  Your  father,  doubtless,  may 
be  willing  to  pay  the  tax  ;  my  father  is  not.  You  may 
not  tliink  as  we  do,  but  that  shall  not  disturb  our 
friendship.  I  shall  love  you  just  as  I  have  ever 
since  we  were  childi-en." 

"  How  good  you  are  I  I  appreciate  your  kindness. 
]SIy  father  and  mother  stand  for  the  king,  but  I  have 
my  own  opinion.  Under  the  terms  of  the  agreement, 
I  cannot  sign  it,  but  I  am  \\\t\\  you  in  spirit.  I  can 
see  the  course  taken  by  the  king  is  not  right  or  just, 
and  it  will  fail.  Nothing  can  succeed  in  the  end  that 
is  not  right."" 

••  Oil.  Ruth,  how  you  shame  me.  Here  I  have  been 
fidgeting  over  the   cutting  things   some  of  the  girls 


CHRIST  CHURCH  CHIMES.  103 

and  their  mothers  have  been  saying.  One  asked  if  I 
expected  to  bankrupt  the  East  India  Company.  An- 
other wanted  to  know  if  I  was  going  to  wear  trousers 
and  vote  in  town  meeting." 

"  So  mother's  afternoon  tea-party  stands  a  chance 
of  being  the  last,  for  the  present,  at  least.  By  the  way, 
do  you  ever  hear  from  your  cousin,  Mr.  Walden  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not  heard  a  word  since  he  left  us.  I 
should  not  be  surprised,  however,  if  he  were  to  drop 
in  upon  us  any  day,  for  I  have  written  him  that  the 
ship  is  to  be  launched  soon.  Father  intends  to  make 
it  a  grand  occasion  when  the  Berinthia  Brandon  glides 
into  the  water.  I  shall  have  all  my  friends  present, 
Ruth  Newville  chief  among  them." 

"  Count  upon  me  to  do  whatever  I  can  to  make  it 
a  happy  day,"  said  Ruth. 


VII. 

LAUNCHING    OF    THE    BERINTHIA    BRANDON. 

The  pigs  had  been  fattening  through  the  winter, 
and  it  was  quite  time  to  send  them  to  market. 

"You  did  so  well  with  the  cheese,  you  may  see 
what  you  can  do  with  the  shoats,"  said  Mr.  Walden 
to  Robert.  "  It  is  good  sleighing.  You  can  harness 
the  colt  and  Jenny,  and  go  with  the  pung.  I  want 
you  to  take  Rachel  along.  You  can  stay  a  couple  of 
weeks  and  have  a  good  visit." 

There  was  a  glow  upon  Rachel's  face.  It  woidd  be 
her  first  journey.  She  would  see  new  things,  and 
make  new  acquaintances.  During  the  evenings  she 
had  been  knitting  a  hood  and  mittens  of  the  finest 
wool,  and  would  present  them  to  Miss  Newville. 

It  was  a  resplendent  morning,  with  the  eastern  sky 
like  molten  gold  in  the  light  of  the  rising  sun,  and 
the  hoar-frost  upon  the  t^vigs  of  the  leafless  trees 
changing  to  glittering  diamonds.  The  colt,  sleek  and 
plump,  was  champing  his  bit  and  shaking  his  head  in 
his  impatience  to  be  off.  Jenny  was  staid  and  sober, 
but  when  Robert  said,  "  Now,  lad  and  lady,"  the  colt 
pranced  a  few  steps,  then  settled  to  a  steady  trot, 
learning'  a  lesson  from  Jenny. 

An  horn-  before  lunch-time  they  whirled  up  to  Cap- 
tain Stark's  tavern  in  Derryfield,  and  before  sunset 


THE  BERINTHIA  BRANDON.  105 

came  to  a  halt  in  the  dooryard  of  a  relative  in  An- 
dover.  Before  noon  the  next  day  Rachel  was  looking 
with  wondering  eyes  upon  the  gleaming  spires  of  the 
meetinghouses  and  the  crooked  streets  of  Boston. 

"  You  have  come  just  at  the  right  time,"  said  Be- 
rinthia,  welcoming  her  with  a  kiss,  "  for  I  am  to  be 
launched  day  after  to-morrow." 

Seeing  by  the  look  of  wonder  on  Rachel's  face  that 
she  was  not  imderstood,  Berinthia  explained  that  the 
ship  her  father  was  building  was  to  bear  her  name, 
and  that  everything  was  ready  for  the  laimching. 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  so  delightful  to  have  you  here ! " 
she  added.  "We  will  be  on  the  deck,  ever  so  many 
of  us,  —  my  friends,  papa's  and  mamma's  and  Tom's. 
Ruth  Newville  will  be  here ;  and  Tom's  classmate  in 
Harvard  College,  Roger  Stanley,  who  lives  out  beyond 
Lexington,  is  coming.  He  's  a  real  nice  yomig  man, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  like  him.  Tom's  girl  will  be 
here,  Mary  Shrimpton  ;  she  is  out  in  the  kitchen  now. 
She  has  been  helping  us  make  criunpets,  crullers,  gin- 
gerbread, and  cake.  Father  and  mother  intend  to 
make  it  a  grand  affair,  and  have  invited  half  of  the 
town,  —  doctors,  lawyers,  ministers,  and  their  wives  ; 
everybody  that  is  anybody.  Tom  has  invited  his 
friends,  and  I  mine,  because  the  ship  is  to  bear  my 
name." 

Rachel  said  she  was  glad  she  had  come  to  see  and 
enjoy  it  all. 

"We  will  have  a  jolly  time  while  you  are  here;  it 
is  vacation  at  college,  and  I  shan't  have  to  study," 
said  Tom. 

A  yovmg  lady  with  a  pleasant  face,  light  blue  eyes, 


106       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

and  soft  brown  hair,  entered  the  room  and  was  intro- 
duced as  Miss  Shrinipton. 

"  She  has  been  helping  us  get  ready,  and  has  rolled 
out  a  bushel  of  crullers,"  said  Tom. 

"  Not  quite  so  many,"  said  Miss  Shrimpton,  smiling. 

Robert  thought  her  very  attractive  and  pleasing. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  home  now ;  father  and  mother 
will  be  expecting  me,  but  I  will  be  round  to-morrow," 
said  Miss  Shrimpton. 

Tom  put  on  his  hat  and  escorted  her.  When  he 
returned,  and  he  and  Robert  were  by  themselves,  he 
said  that  she  was  the  best  girl  in  Boston. 

"  Her  father,"  he  went  on,  "is  a  redhot  Tory.  He 
lives  in  a  fine  house,  owns  thousands  of  acres  of  land 
out  in  the  coimtry,  tliinks  King  George  a  saint,  or- 
dained of  God  to  rule  us ;  that  Sam  Adams  and  Doc- 
tor Warren  are  tricksters  fooling  the  people  for  their 
own  benefit.  But  Mary  is  just  the  nicest  girl  you 
ever  saw.  She  has  no  mother,  runs  the  house  for  her 
father,  keeps  everything  as  neat  as  a  pin,  and  by  and 
by,  after  I  get  tlu-ough  at  Harvard  and  aiu  in  posses- 
sion of  my  sheepskin  with  A.  B.  on  it,  she  will  be 
Mrs.  Tom  Brandoli." 

Robert  congratulated  Tom  upon  his  engagement. 

The  next  morning  saw  Robert  in  the  market  dis- 
posing of  what  he  had  to  sell,  while  Berinthia  with 
Rachel  called  upon  Miss  Newville. 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  send  such  a  basket  of 
fruit  to  me,  a  stranger  ;  will  you  please  accept  a  little 
gift  in  ]-eturn?  It  is  not  much,  but  it  will  let  you 
know  that  I  apjireciate  your  goodness,"  said  Rachel, 
plaeuig  a  bundle  in  Miss  NewviUe's  hands.     When 


THE  BERINTHIA  BRANDON.  107 

it  was  opened  Ruth  beheld  a  close-fitting  hood  of  the 
softest  lamb's  wool,  made  beautiful  with  pink  ribbons ; 
there  was  also  a  pair  of  mittens. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Walden  !  How  good  you  are !  How 
soft  and  nice !  And  they  are  of  your  own  carding, 
spimiing,  and  knitting?  And  you  have  done  it  for 
me,  whom  you  never  had  seen,  and  of  whom  you  never 
heard  except  through  yoiu*  brother.  And  is  he 
well?  "  Miss  Newville  asked. 

"  Quite  weU.  You  wiU  see  him  to-morrow  at  the 
launching." 

"  Is  n't  it  delightf  id  that  they  have  come  in  the  nick 
of  time  ?  "  said  Berinthia. 

"  How  fortunate !  And  you  are  to  have  such  a  nice 
party.  I  will  wear  the  hood  and  be  the  envy  of  every- 
body," said  Miss  Newville,  putting  it  on,  praising  its 
beauty,  and  calling  in  her  mother  to  make  Rachel's 
acquaintance  and  admire  the  gift. 

The  launcliing  of  the  ship  was  to  be  at  flood-tide, 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon.  Though  in  midwinter, 
the  air  was  mild,  as  if  a  warm  breath  had  been  wafted 
landward  from  the  GuK  Stream.  There  was  a  fever 
of  excitement  and  preparation  in  the  Brandon  home. 
Dinah  in  the  kitchen  was  taking  pots  of  baked  beans 
and  loaves  of  brown  bread  smoking  hot  from  the  oven, 
fiUing  baskets  with  crumpets  and  crullers.  Mark  An- 
tony was  taking  them  to  the  shipyard.  Mrs.  Bran- 
don, Berinthia,  Rachel,  and  Mary  Shrimpton  were 
preparing  the  cakes  and  pies.  Tom  and  Robert  on 
board  the  ship  were  arranging  for  the  collation. 

Never  before  had  Rachel  beheld  anything  so  en- 
chanting as  the  scene  in  the  sliipyard,  —  the  ship  with 


108       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

its  tall  and  tapering  masts,  its  spars  and  yardarms ; 
the  multitudes  of  ropes  like  the  threads  of  a  spider's 
web ;  flags,  streamers,  red,  white,  green,  blue,  yellow, 
with  devices  of  lions,  unicorns,  dragons,  eagles,  flutter- 
ing from  bowsprit  to  fore-royal  mast,  from  taffrail  to 
mizzen.  Beneath  the  bowsprit  was  the  bust  of  Berin- 
thia,  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  man  who  carved  it  in 
every  feature,  for  to  Abraham  Duncan  there  was  no 
face  on  earth  so  beautiful  as  that  of  the  shipmaster's 
daughter. 

The  guests  were  assembling  on  the  deck :  the  com- 
missioner of  imposts,  Theodore  Newville,  Mrs.  New- 
ville,  and  their  daughter,  Ruth ;  his  majesty's  receiver- 
general,  Nathaniel  Coffin,  and  liis  two  sons,  Isaac  and 
John ;  Reverend  Doctor  Samuel  Cooper,  minister  of 
the  church  in  Brattle  Street ;  Doctor  Warren,  physician 
to  the  family  of  the  shipmaster ;  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Dahymple,  commanding  the  king's  troops,  —  for  Mr. 
Brandon,  though  deprecating  the  presence  of  the 
troops  in  Boston,  determined  to  be  courteous  to  the 
representatives  of  his  majesty ;  Admiral  Montague, 
who  came  in  his  gig  rowed  by  six  sailors  from  his  flag- 
ship, Romney ;  William  Mohneux  i  and  John  Rowe, 
merchants  ;  Richard  Dana  and  Edmund  Quincy,  mag- 
istrates ;  John  Adams,  a  young  lawyer ;  honored  citi- 
zens and  their  wives  ;  Master  Lovell ;  and  Tom's  class- 
mate, Roger  Stanley,  who  had  walked  from  Lexington 

1  William  Molineux  was  a  prominent  merchant  who  gave  his  sym- 
pathies to  the  cause  of  the  people.  He  was  one  of  the  committee  who 
demanded  the  removal  of  tlie  troops  after  the  Massacre  of  March  5, 
1770.  He  was  one  of  the  "  Indians"  composing  the  "Tea-party." 
He  was  also  one  of  tlie  promoters  of  the  spinning-school  in  Long 
Acre.     He  died  before  the  outbreak  of  hostilities. 


THE  BERINTHIA   BRANDON.  109 

in  the  early  morning.  Among  the  many  ladies,  most 
attractive  was  Kuth  NewviUe,  wearing  a  close-fitting 
hood  of  soft  lamb's  wool,  trimmed  with  bright  ribbon, 
all  her  friends  admiring  it. 

Berinthia  introduced  Rachel  and  Robert  to  Mrs. 
Adams.  They  found  her  a  very  charming  lady ;  she 
had  brought  her  little  boy,  John  Quincy,  to  see  the 
lamiching  of  the  ship. 

Picturesque  the  scene:  gentlemen  wearing  white 
wigs,  blue,  crimson,  and  scarlet  cloaks,  carrying  gold- 
headed  canes,  taking  pinches  of  snuif  from  silver- 
moimted  boxes ;  young  gentlemen  with  handsome 
figures  and  manly  faces ;  ladies  with  tippets  and 
muffs ;  girls  in  hoods,  —  all  congratulating  Berinthia, 
admiring  the  beauty  and  tidiness  of  the  ship,  and  the 
lovely  figure  of  herself.  All  praised  Abraham  Dun- 
can, who  blushed  like  a  schoolboy. 

They  could  hear  the  clattering  of  mallets  and  axes 
beneath  them,  and  knew  the  carpenters  were  knocking 
away  the  props.  The  ways  had  been  slushed  with 
grease.  The  tide  was  at  the  flood.  Ruth  NewviUe 
was  to  break  the  bottle  of  wine.  She  had  shaken 
hands  with  Robert  Walden,  and  given  expression  of  her 
pleasure  at  meeting  him  once  more.  Her  eyes  had 
followed  him ;  even  when  not  looking  towards  him  she 
had  seen  him.  Once  more  she  thanked  Rachel  for 
her  gift.  Her  mates  were  asking  her  where  she  had 
found  a  hood  so  beautiful  and  becoming.  They  stood 
upon  the  quarter-deck,  Berinthia  the  queen  of  the  hour, 
Ruth,  radiant  and  lovely,  by  her  side.  They  heard  the 
bell  striking  the  hour  of  eleven.  A  great  crowd  had 
assembled  to  see  the  launching.     Men,  women,  boys, 


110        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

and  girls  were  in  the  yard,  flocking  the  street,  gazing 
from  doors  and  windows  of  neighboring  houses. 
"  Are  you  ready  there?  " 


Launching  the  Ship. 


It  was  the  builder  of  the  ship,  Mr.  Brandon,  shout- 
ing over  the  taffrail  to  those  beneath. 
"  Aye,  aye,  sir." 
"  Then  luiock  it  away." 


THE  BERINTHIA  BRANDON.  Ill 

They  heard  a  blow  from  an  axe.  The  stately  ship 
quivered  a  moment,  then  glided  with  increasing  sp^ed 
down  the  ways. 

Mr.  Brandon  raised  his  hand,  and  a  ball  of  bunting 
at  the  topmast  fluttered  out  into  the  Cross  of  St. 
George.  Ruth  lifted  the  bottle  of  wine,  broke  it  upon 
the  rail,  and  poured  the  contents  into  the  river.  A 
huzza  rose  from  the  quarter-deck.  Handkerchiefs 
fluttered  in  the  air.  The  people  tossed  up  their  hats. 
From  sti'eet,  doorway,  and  window  came  an  answering 
shout. 

Out  from  the  shore  drifted  the  Berinthia  till  the 
anchor  dropped  from  her  bow,  and  she  lay  a  thing  of 
beauty,  swinging  with  the  ebbing  tide. 

In  the  cabin  the  guests  were  partaking  of  the  boun- 
tifid  and  appetizing  repast. 

"  I  remember,  Miss  Newville,  that  you  once  gi'a- 
ciously  served  me  at  an  afternoon  tea ;  shall  I  have 
the  pleasure  of  waiting  upon  you?  "  Robert  asked. 

"  I  shall  be  pleased  to  be  served  by  you.  The 
fresh  air  has  sharpened  my  appetite,  and  I  will  begin 
with  a  plate  of  beans,  if  you  please." 

He  brought  what  she  desired,  served  liimself,  and 
took  a  chair  by  her  side.  They  talked  of  the  success- 
ful launching,  of  the  beauty  of  the  ship,  sitting  as 
gracefully  as  a  swan  upon  the  water,  of  the  almost 
perfect  likeness  of  the  figurehead  to  Berinthia. 

"Tossibly  it  is  so  beautiful  because  the  engraver's 
heart  has  gone  into  it,"  she  said  with  a  smile. 

Their  eyes  met.  He  thought  hers  very  beautiful 
at  the  moment. 

Roger    Stanley  found    equal   pleasure    in    serving 


112        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Rachel,  and  in  listening  to  what  she  had  to  say  about 
the  launching,  her  visit  to  Boston,  and  of  things  in 
Rumford. 

Robert  talked  with  Isaac  Coffin,  who  said  he  ex- 
pected to  have  a  commission  in  his  majesty's  navy. 
Admiral  Montague  was  very  kind,  and  was  using  his 
influence  to  secure  an  appointment.  His  yoimger 
brother,  John,  Hked  the  army  better.  Robert  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  not  Sons  of  Liberty, 
but  were  inclined  to  take  sides  with  the  ministiy, 
which  was  very  natural,  as  their  father  was  holding  a 
very  important  office  imder  the  crown. 

There  was  a  merry  chattering  of  voices,  a  ratthng 
of  knives  and  forks,  and  changing  of  plates.  Mark 
Antony  was  master  of  ceremonies  at  the  table,  giving 
directions  to  Caesar  and  Pompey. 

Although  society  was  divided  politically,  neighbors 
still  were  friends,  accepting  and  giving  hospitality,  and 
when  meeting  socially  avoiding  all  allvision  to  the 
proposed  bill  for  taxing  the  Colonies.  All  hoped  that 
nothing  would  be  done  by  Parliament  to  interrupt 
friendly  relations  between  the  Colonies  and  the  mo- 
ther country.  Doctor  Warren  made  himself  agree- 
able to  bluff  Admiral  Montagiie.  William  Molineux 
cracked  jokes  with  Colonel  Dalrymple.  Richard  Dana 
and  Nathaniel  Coffin  were  friendly  neighbors.  Mr. 
Dana  could  look  out  from  his  front  windows  near 
Frog  Lane,i  and  see  the  spacious  gi-ounds  of  his 
neighbor  Coffin's  "  Fields,"  as  the  boys  who  played 

^  Frog  Lane  extended  from  Xewbury,  now  Washington  Street,  to 
the  Common.  It  is  now  a  part  of  Boylston  Street.  Mr.  Dana's  house 
commanded  an  extensive  view  across  the  fields,  gardens,  and  orchards 
owned  hy  Nathaniel  Coffin,  south  of  the  present  Summer  Street. 


THE  BERINTHIA  BRANDON.  113 

ball  called  it.  There  was  no  reason  why  they  should  be 
at  odds  socially,  just  because  Lord  North  and  the  king 
proposed  to  levy  a  tax  of  three  pence  a  pound  on  tea. 

With  story  and  jest  the  company  enjoyed  the  ban- 
quet and  then  were  rowed  to  the  shore,  all  shaking 
hands  with  Berinthia  and  congratulating  her  upon  the 
successful  launching  of  the  vessel  bearing  her  name. 

"  What  can  we  do  to  round  out  the  day  for  you, 
dear?" 

It  was  Miss  Newville  addressing  Berinthia. 

"  I  don't  know ;  what  can  we  ?  "  was  the  reply. 

"  How  would  you  like  a  sleigh-ride  ?  "  Robert  asked. 

"  Delightful !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Newville. 

"  Jenny  and  the  colt  are  rested,  and  if  you  don't 
mind  riding  in  a  pung,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  take  a 
little  spin  out  of  town." 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  so  charming !  I  would  rather  go 
in  a  pung  than  in  a  sleigh ;  it  is  more  romantic,"  Miss 
Newville  said. 

It  was  quickly  arranged.  Robert  went  to  the 
Green  Dragon,  put  new  straw  in  the  pung,  and  was 
soon  back  with  the  team.  They  were  eight  in  num- 
ber and  quickly  seated  themselves.  It  was  natural 
that  Berinthia  and  Abraham  Duncan,  who  had  put 
his  heart  into  his  work  while  carving  her  features, 
should  sit  side  by  side,  and  that  Tom  Brandon  and 
Mary  Shrimpton  should  desire  to  be  tucked  imder  the 
same  bearskin.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  Roger  Stanley 
to  ask  Miss  Walden  to  keep  him  company. 

"  They  have  decided,  Mr.  Walden,  that  we  shall  sit 
together,"  Miss  Newville  said  as  she  stepped  into  the 
pung. 


114        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  shall  regard  it  an  honor  to  have  your  company," 
was  the  reply. 

When  all  were  ready,  the  horses  set  the  sleigh-bells 
jingling.  Farmers  plodding  home  from  the  market 
gave  them  the  road,  and  smiled  as  they  hstened  to  the 
merry  laughter.  They  went  at  a  brisk  trot  over  the 
Neck  leading  to  Roxbury,  and  turned  to  the  left,  tak- 
ing the  Dorchester  road.  At  times  the  horses  came 
to  a  walk,  but  at  a  chirrup  from  Robert  quickened 
their  pace,  the  colt  throwing  snowballs  into  Miss 
Newville's  face. 

"  You  must  excuse  him.  Miss  Newville ;  he  is  young, 
and  has  not  learned  to  be  polite,"  Robert  said,  apolo- 
gizing for  the  animal. 

They  gained  the  higlilands  of  Dorchester,  from 
whence  they  could  overlook  the  harbor  and  its  islands, 
and  see  the  lighthouse  rising  from  its  rocky  founda- 
tion, with  the  white  surf  breaking  around  it.  A  ship 
which  had  left  Charles  River  with  the  ebbing  tide 
had  reached  Nantasket  Roads,  and  was  spreading  its 
sails  for  a  voyage  across  the  sea. 

"  So  the  Berinthia  will  soon  be  sailing,"  said  Miss 
Newville,  "  and  we  shall  all  want  to  keep  track  of  her ; 
and  whenever  we  read  of  her  coming  and  going  we 
shall  all  recall  this  delightful  day,  made  so  enjoyable 
for  us  this  morning  by  Berintliia  and  so  charming  this 
afternoon  by  your  kindness." 

She  turned  her  face  towards  Robert.  The  after- 
noon sun  Avas  illuniining  lier  countenance.  He  had 
seen  in  ]Mr.  Ileneliman's  bookstall  a  beautiful  picture 
of  a  Madonna.  ]Mr.  Knox  told  him  it  was  a  steel  en- 
graving from  a  picture   painted  by  the  great   artist 


THE  BERINTHIA   BRANDON.  115 

Raphael,  and  Robert  wondered  if  the  countenance,  was 
any  more  lovely  than  that  which  looked  up  to  him  at 
the  moment. 

They  were  riding  towards  the  Milton  Hills.  The 
woodman's  axe  had  left  untouched  the  oaks,  ehns, 
maples,  and  birches  ;  they  were  leafless  in  midwinter, 
but  the  pines  and  hemlocks  were  green  and  beautiful 
upon  its  rocky  sides.  The  purple  sky,  changing  into 
gold  along  the  western  horizon,  the  white  robe  of  win- 
ter upon  hill  and  dale,  the  windows  of  farmhouses 
reflecting  the  setting  sim,  made  the  view  and  land- 
scape of  marvelous  beauty.  Descending  the  hiU,  they 
came  to  the  winding  Neponset  River,  and  rode  along 
its  banks  beneath  overhanging  ehns.  The  bending 
limbs,  though  leafless,  were  beautiful  in  their  outlines 
against  the  sky.  Turning  westward,  they  reached  the 
great  road  leading  from  Boston  to  Providence. 

"  We  might  go  to  Dedliam,  but  I  think  we  had 
better  turn  back  towards  Roxbury,  let  the  horses  rest 
a  bit  at  the  Greyhound  Tavern,  and  have  supper,"  ^ 
said  Tom,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  road. 

The  sun  had  gone  down  when  they  whirled  up  to 
the  tavern,  whose  swinging  sign  was  ornamented  with 
a  rude  picture  of  a  gTcyhound.  A  bright  fire  was 
blazing  in  the  parlor.  They  laid  aside  their  outer 
garments  and  warmed  themselves  by  its  ruddy  glow. 
The  keen,  fresh  air  had  sharpened  their  appetites  for 
supper.  Cliloe  and  Samson,  cook  and  table-waiter, 
served  them  with  beefsteak  hot  from  the  gridiron, 

1  The  Greyhound  was  a  much  frequented  tavern  in  Roxbury,  with 
the  figure  of  a  greyhound  upon  its  sign.  It  was  in  this  tavern  that  the 
repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act  was  celebrated,  1767.  Convivial  parties 
were  courteously  entertained  by  the  accommodating  landlord. 


116       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

swimming  in  butter;  potatoes  roasted  in  the  ashes; 
shortcake  steaming  hot  from  the  Dutch  oven. 

"  Shall  I  brew  Bohea,  Hyson,  or  Hyperion  ^  tea," 
the  landlady  asked,  beginning  with  Miss  Newville  and 
glancing  at  each  in  turn. 

"  I  will  take  Hyperion,"  Miss  NewviUe  replied,  with 
a  tact  and  grace  that  made  her  dearer  than  ever  to 
Berinthia,  and  to  them  all,  knowing  as  they  did  that 
Bohea  and  Hyson  were  still  served  in  her  own  home. 

Supper  over,  they  returned  to  the  parlor,  where  the 
bright  flame  on  the  hearth  was  setting  their  shadows 
to  dancing  on  the  walls.  The  feet  of  Mary  Shrimp- 
ton  were  keeping  time  to  the  ticking  of  the  clock. 

"  Why  can't  we  have  a  dance  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  all  responded. 

"  I  '11  see  if  we  can  find  Uncle  Brutus,"  said  Tom. 

Uncle  Brutus  was  the  white-haired  old  negro  who 
did  chores  about  the  tavern.  < 

"  Yes,  niassa,  I  can  play  a  jig,  quickstep,  minuet, 
and  reel.  De  ladies  and  genmen  say  I  can  play  de 
fiddle  right  smart,"  Brutus  responded,  roUing  his  eyes 
and  showing  his  well-j)reserved  white  teeth. 

"  If  de  ladies  and  genmen  will  wait  a  little  till  old 
Brutus  can  make  himself  'spectable,  he  '11  make  de 
fiddle  sing." 

While  the  old  negro  was  getting  ready  to  entertain 
them  with  his  violin,  they  proposed  conundrums  and 
riddles  and  narrated  stories. 

There  came  at  length  a  gentle  rap  on  the  door, 
and  Brutus,  with  high  standing  collar,  wearing  a  cast- 

*  Strawberry  and  otlier  domestic  teas  were  called  by  the  high-sound- 
ing uanie,  Hyperion. 


THE  BERINTHIA  BRANDON.  117 

off  coat  given  him  by  his  master,  his  round-bowed 
spectacles  on  the  tip  of  his  nose,  entered  the  room, 
bowing  very  low.  He  took  his  stand  in  one  corner 
and  tuned  his  violin.  The  chairs  and  light-stand  were 
removed  to  the  hall. 

"  De  ladies  and  genmen  will  please  choose  pardners 
for  de  minuet,"  said  Brutus. 

The  choosing  had  been  already  done ;  the  partners 
were  as  they  had  been.  After  the  minuet  came  the 
reel  and  quickstep,  danced  with  grace  and  due  de- 
corum. 

The  hour  quickly  flew.  The  horses  had  finished 
their  provender  and  were  rested.  Once  more  they 
were  on  the  road,  not  riding  directly  homeward,  but 
turning  into  cross-roads  to  Jamaica  Pond,  where  the 
boys  were  gliding  over  the  gleaming  ice  on  their 
skates.  They  had  kindled  fires  which  lighted  up  the 
surrounding  objects,  the  dark  foliage  of  pines  and 
hemlocks,  and  the  branches  of  the  leafless  elms  and 
maples  growing  on  the  banks  of  the  pond. 

The  full  moon  was  shining  in  their  faces  as  they 
rode  homeward.  The  evening  air  was  crisp,  but 
the  hot  supper  and  the  merry  dance  had  warmed 
their  blood.  The  jingling  of  the  sleigh-bells  and 
their  joyous  laughter  made  the  air  resonant  with 
music. 

At  times  the  horses  lagged  to  a  walk,  and  Robert 
could  let  the  reins  lie  loose  and  turn  his  face  toward 
Miss  Newville.  Her  eyes  at  times  looked  up  to  his. 
He  could  feel  her  arm  against  his  own.  The  violet 
hood  leaned  towards  him  as  if  to  find  a  resting-place. 
To  Robert  Walden  and  to  Ruth  Newville  alike  never 


118       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

had  there  been  such  a  night,  so  full  of  beauty,  so 
delightful. 

The  horses  came  to  a  standstill  at  last  by  the  en- 
trance to  the  Newville  mansion. 

"  This  has  been  the  most  enjoyable  day  of  my  life," 
Miss  Newville  said,  as  Robert  gave  her  his  hand  to 
assist  her  from  the  pung. 

"  Good-night,  all.  Thank  you,  Mr.  Walden,  for 
all  your  kindness,"  her  parting  words. 


vm. 

CHRISTOPHER    SNTDER. 

The  night-watchman  of  the  North  End  of  Boston, 
with  overcoat  buttoned  to  the  chin  and  a  muffler 
around  his  neck,  a  fur  cap  drawn  down  over  his  ears 
to  exclude  the  biting  frost  of  midwinter,  was  going 
his  rounds.  He  saw  no  revelers  in  the  streets,  nor 
belated  visitors  returning  to  their  homes. 

If  suitors  were  calling  upon  their  ladies,  the  visits 
were  ended  long  before  the  clock  on  the  Old  Brick 
struck  the  midnight  hour.  No  voice  broke  the  stillness 
of  the  night.  The  watchman  scarcely  heard  his  own 
footsteps  in  the  newly  fallen  snow  as  he  slowly  made 
his  way  along  Middle  Street,^  with  his  lantern  and 
stafp.  He  was  not  expecting  to  encounter  a  burglar, 
breaking  and  entering  a  shop,  store,  or  residence.  He 
heard  the  clock  strike  once  more,  and  was  just  pursing 
his  lips  to  cry,  "  Two  o'clock,  and  all 's  well,"  when 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  figure  in  front  of  Theophilus 
Lillie's  store.2  Was  it  a  burglar  ?  The  man  was 
standing  stock-still,  as  if  scanning  the  premises.    The 

^  The  section  of  the  present  Hanover  Street  east  of  Blackstone 
Street  was  called  Middle  Street. 

^  Mr.  Theophilus  Lillie  was  one  of  the  six  merchants  who  refused 
to  sign  the  association  paper  not  to  import  goods  from  England, 
thereby  making  himself  exceedingly  obnoxious  to  the  people.  Other 
merchants  had  agreed  not  to  make  any  imjwrtation,  and  had  violated 
the  agreement. 


120       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

watchman  dodged  back  behind  the  building  on  the 
corner  of  the  street,  hid  his  lantern,  and  peered  slyly 
at  the  thief,  who  was  still  looking  at  the  store. 
What  was  the  meaning  of  such  mysterious  inaction  ? 
The  watchman,  instead  of  waiting  to  catch  the  culprit 
in  the  act  of  breaking  and  entering,  stepped  softly 
forward.  Grasping  his  staff  with  a  firm  giip,  to  give 
a  sudden  whack,  should  the  villain  turn  upon  him,  — 
"What  ye  'bout,  sir  !  "  he  shouted. 

The  burglar  did  not  reply,  neither  turn  his  head. 

"  Is  the  fellow  dead,  I  wonder  —  frozen  stiff,  this 
bitter  night,  and  standing  still?  "the  question  that 
flashed  through  the  watchman's  brain. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  It 's  Mr.  Lillie's  head,  —  his  nose, 
mouth,  chin.  Looks  just  like  him.  And  the  post  is 
set  in  the  ground,  I  '11  bet  that  carving  is  Abe  Dim- 
can's  work.  Nobody  can  carve  hke  him.  But  what 
is  it  here  for  ?  Ah  I  I  see.  Lillie  has  gone  back  on 
his  agreement  not  to  import  tea.  The  Sons  of  Lib- 
erty have  rigged  it  up  to  guy  him.     Ha,  ha  !  " 

The  watclmian  laughed  to  himself  as  he  examined 
the  figure. 

"  Well,  that 's  a  cute  job,"  he  said  reflectively. 
"  The  ground  is  frozen  stiff  a  foot  deep.  They  had  to 
break  it  with  a  crowbar,  but  not  a  sound  did  I  hear. 
Shall  I  say  anything  about  it  ?  Will  not  the  select- 
men make  a  fuss  if  I  don't  notify  'em  at  once  ?  But 
what 's  the  use  of  knocking  'em  up  at  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning  ?  The  thing  's  done.  'T  ain't  my  busi- 
ness to  pull  it  up.  The  post  won't  run  away.  I  'U 
report  wliat  time  I  found  it." 

Remembering  that  he  had  not  cried  the  hour,  he 
shouted  :  — 


CHRISTOPHER  SNIDER.  121 

"  Two  o'clock,  aU  's  well !  " 

He  secreted  himself  in  a  doorway  awhile,  to  see  if 
any  one  would  appear,  but  no  one  came. 

The  early  risers  —  the  milkmen  and  bakers'  ap- 
prentices going  their  rounds,  shop  boys  on  their  way 
to  kindle  fires  in  stores  —  all  stopped  to  look  at  the 
figure.  The  news  quickly  spread.  People  left  their 
breakfast-tables  to  see  the  joke  played  on  Mr.  Lillie. 
Ebenezer  Richardson,  however,  coidd  not  see  the  fun 
of  the  thing.  The  schoolboys  called  him  "  Poke  Nose  " 
because  he  was  ever  ready  to  poke  into  other  people's 
affairs.^  The  officers  of  the  custom  house  employed 
him  to  ferret  out  goods  smuggled  ashore  by  merchants, 
who,  regarding  the  laws  as  unjust  and  oppressive,  had 
no  scruples  in  circumventing  the  customs  officers. 
Richardson  hated  the  Sons  of  Liberty,  and  haimted 
the  Green  Dragon  to  spy  out  their  actions. 

"  This  is  their  work,"  he  said  to  those  aroimd  the 
figure.  "  It 's  outrageous.  Mr.  Lillie  has  just  as  good 
a  right  to  sell  tea  as  anything  else,  without  having 
everybody  pointing  theu'  fingers  at  him.  It 's  an 
insidt.  It 's  disgraceful.  Whoever  did  it  ought  to 
be  trounced." 

"  Charcoal !    Charcoal !     Hard  and  soft  charcoal !  " 

^  The  offensive  and  unjust  laws  and  acts  and  ordinances  of  the 
Board  of  Trade  in  enforcing  the  collection  of  customs  dues  had 
brought  about  systematic  effort  to  circumvent  the  custom-house  offi- 
cials, who  employed  spies  and  informers  to  ferret  out  fraudulent 
transactions.  Smuggling  was  regarded  as  a  virtue,  and  outwitting  the 
officials  a  duty  rather  than  an  offense.  Ebenezer  Richardson,  by  his 
service  to  the  custom-house  officials,  made  himself  obnoxious  to  the 
community.  An  account  of  the  incidents  that  led  to  the  shooting 
of  Christopher  Snider  may  be  found  in  the  newspapers  of  March, 
1770. 


122        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

It  was  the  cry  of  the  charcoal-man,  turnmg  from 
Union  into  Middle  Street. 

"  I  '11  get  him  to  run  his  sled  against  it  and  knock 
it  over,"  said  Mr.  Richardson  to  himself. 

Slowly  the  charcoal  vender  advanced. 

Seeing  the  post  and  the  group  of  people  around  it, 
he  reined  in  his  old  horse  and  looked  at  the  figure. 

"  See  here,"  said  Mr.  Richardson.  "  Just  gee  a 
little  and  run  the  nose  of  your  sled  agin  it  and  knock 
it  over,  will  ye  ?  It 's  a  tarnal  fiendish  outrage  to  set 
up  such  a  thing  in  front  of  a  gentleman's  store." 

"  Do  you  own  the  figger  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Do  you  o^vn  the  store  ?  " 

«No." 

"  Anybody  ax  ye  to  get  it  knocked  down  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  it 's  an  outrage  which  honest  citizens 
ought  to  resent." 

"Think  so,  do  ye?" 

"  Yes,  I  do ;  and  everybody  else  ought  to,  instead 
of  laughing  and  chuckling  over  it." 

"  That  may  be,  mister,  but  ye  see  you  don't  own  it, 
and  may  be  I  'd  get  myself  into  trouble  3  I  were 
to  run  my  sled  agin  it  purposely.  Should  like  to 
oblege  ye,  neighbor,  but  guess  I  'd  better  not.  Char- 
coal !  Charcoal !  Hard  and  soft  charcoal ! "  he 
shouted,  jerking  the  reins  for  the  old  horse  to  move 
on. 

"  Gee,  Buck !     Haw,  Barry  \  " 

It  was  a  farmer  driving  his  oxen  dra^ving  a  load  of 
wood,  swinging  his  goad-stick,  who  shouted  it.  The 
team  came  to  a  standstill  by  the  figure. 


CHRISTOPHER  SNIDER.  123 

"  What 's  up  ?  "  the  farmer  inquired. 

"  The  Sons  of  Liberty  have  perpetrated  a  rascally 
trick,  by  setting  this  effigy  in  front  of  this  gentle- 
man's store,"  said  Mr.  Richardson. 

"  What  'd  they  do  that  for  ?  " 

•'  'Cause  he  agreed  not  to  sell  tea,  and  then,  finding 
he  'd  made  a  bad  bargain,  backed  out  of  it ;  and  now 
I  'd  like  to  have  ye  hitch  yer  oxen  to  the  thing  and 
snake  it  to  Jericho." 

"  'Fraid  I  can't  'commodate  ye ;  got  to  go  down  to 
widow  Jenkins's  with  my  wood.  Gee,  Buck  !  Haw, 
Barry !  "  said  the  farmer,  as  he  started  on. 

"  Rich,  why  don't  ye  pull  it  up  yourself,"  said  an 
apprentice. 

"  Better  get  an  axe  and  chop  it  down,  if  it 's  such 
an  eyesore  to  ye,"  said  another. 

"  Get  a  crowbar  and  dig  it  up.  A  little  exercise 
will  be  good  for  ye,"  said  a  third. 

"  Has  Lillie  engaged  ye  to  get  rid  of  the  thing  ?  " 
another  asked. 

"  Did  the  Sons  of  Liberty  smuggle  it  ashore  during 
the  night  ?  " 

Tom  Brandon  asked  the  question,  which  nettled 
Mr.  Richardson  exceedingly.  Possibly  the  informer 
could  not  have  said  why  he  was  so  zealous  for  the 
removal  of  the  effigy.  He  would  not  have  been  will- 
ing to  admit  that  he  was  seeking  to  advance  himself 
in  the  estimation  of  Hon.  Theodore  Newville,  com- 
missioner of  imposts,  and  Hon.  Nathaniel  Coffin,  his 
majesty's  receiver-general.  Quite  likely  he  could 
not  have  given  any  very  satisfactory  reason  for  his 
activity   in   attempting  to    remove   the   figure.      He 


124        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

knew  that  the  selectmen  would  be  obliged  to  clear  the 
street  of  the  obstruction,  but  a  display  of  loyalty  to 
the  king  might  possibly  inure  to  his  benefit.  Boys 
on  their  way  to  school  began  to  chaff  the  informer. 

"  Say,  Poke  Nose ;  how  much  are  ye  going  to  get 
for  the  job?  "  shouted  one  of  the  boys. 

"  You  mind  your  own  business." 

"  That 's  what  you  don't  do." 

"  Don't  ye  call  me  names,  you  little  imp,"  shouted 
the  informer,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  boy. 

"  Poke  Nose !  Poke  Nose !  Poke  Nose !  "  the  chorus 
of  voices. 

"  Take  that,  Poke  Nose ! "  said  a  boy  as  he  threw 
a  snowball. 

Losing  his  temper,  the  informer  threw  a  brickbat 
in  return.  He  was  but  one  against  fifty  lads  pelting 
him  with  snowballs,  which  knocked  off  his  hat,  struck 
him  in  the  face,  compelling  him  to  flee,  the  jeering 
boys  following  him  to  his  o^vn  home. 

Tom  Brandon  accompanied  the  boys.  He  saw  the 
informer  raise  a  window.  There  was  a  flash,  a  puff^ 
of  smoke,  the  report  of  a  gun,  a  shriek,  and  two  of 
the  boys  were  Ipng  upon  the  ground  and  their  blood 
sj)urting  upon  the  snow.  He  helped  carry  them  into 
a  house,  and  then  ran  for  Doctor  Warren.  It  was  but 
a  few  steps.     The  doctor  came  in  haste. 

"  Samuel  Gore  is  not  much  injured,  but  Christopher 
Snider  is  mortally  wounded,"  he  said. 

Christ  Church  bells  were  ringing.  Merchants  were 
closing  their  stores  ;  blacksmiths  lea\ang  their  forges ; 
carpenters  throwing  down  their  tools,  —  everybody  has- 
tening with  buckets  and  ladders  to  put  out  the  fiire, 


CHRISTOPHER  SNIDER.  125 

finding  instead  the  blood-stained  snow  and  wounded 
schoolboys. 

"  Hang  him  !  Hang  him !  "  shouted  the  apprentices 
and  journeymen.  But  the  sheriff  had  the  culprit  in 
his  keeping,  and  the  law  in  its  majesty  was  guarding 
him  from  the  violence  of  the  angered  people. 

"  Christopher  Snider  is  dead,"  said  Doctor  Warren, 
as  he  came  from  the  house  into  which  the  boy  had 
been  carried  by  Tom  Brandon  and  those  who  assisted 
him. 

Thenceforth  the  widow's  home  in  Frog  Lane  would 
be  desolate,  for  an  only  child  was  gone. 

An  exasperated  multitude,  among  others  Tom 
Brandon  and  Robert  Walden,  gathered  in  Faneuil 
Hall,  Tom  as  witness,  attending  the  examination  of 
Ebenezer  Richardson,^  charged  with  the  murder  of 
Christopher  Snider.  Upon  the  platform  sat  the  jus- 
tices, John  Ruddock,  Edmund  Quincy,  Richard  Dana, 
and  Samuel  Pemberton,  wearing  their  scarlet  cloaks 
and  white  wigs.     There  was  a  murmuring  of  voices. 

"  I  hope  the  spy  ayiU  swing  for  it,"  Robert  heard 
one  citizen  say. 

"  It 's  downright  murder,  this  shooting  of  a  boy 
only  nine  years  old,  who  hadn't  even  been  teasing 
Poke  Nose,"  said  another. 

"  This  is  what  comes  from  customs  nabobs  trying  to 
enforce  wicked  laws,"  said  an  old  man. 

^  John  Ruddock,  Edrmmd  Quincy,  Richard  Dana,  and  Samuel  Pem- 
berton were  the  principal  magistrates  of  the  town,  and  unitedly  sat  as 
a  court.  Richardson  was  committed  to  jail,  tried,  and  condemned  to 
death.  As  his  crime  grew  from  political  troubles,  Governor  Hutch- 
inson caused  his  execution  to  be  delayed.  He  was  kept  in  jail  till  the 
outbreak  of  the  war,  when  lie  was  set  at  liberty. 


126        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Yes,  and  keeps  two  regiments  of  lobsters  here  to 
insult  us." 

"  That 's  so,"  responded  Peter  Bushwick,  whom 
Eobert  recognized.  "  If  the  laws  were  just  the  peo- 
ple wouldn't  smuggle.  If  there  was  no  smuggling 
there  wouldn't  be  any  spies,  and  Ebe  Richardson,  in- 
stead of  being  a  sneaking  informer,  would  have  been 
earning  an  honest  living.  He  wouldn't  have  been 
called  Poke  Nose ;  there  would  n't  have  been  any 
snowballs  nor  brickbats  nor  shooting.  Ever  since  I 
was  a  little  boy  Parliament  has  been  passing  laws  to 
cripple  us  ;  that 's  what 's  brought  on  smugghng ;  that 's 
what  keeps  the  troops  here.  Ebe  Richardson  is  part 
of  the  system." 

There  was  a  louder  buzzing  as  the  sheriff  entered 
the  hall  and  made  his  way  through  the  crowd  with  his 
prisoner,  who  stood  pale  and  trembling  before  the  jus- 
tices while  the  indictment  was  read.  Witnesses  were 
sworn  and  examined,  and  the  sheriff  ordered  to  commit 
the  accused  to  the  jail  for  trial. 

"  No  other  incident,"  said  Mr.  John  Adams,  "  has 
so  stirred  the  people  as  the  shooting  of  this  boy. 
Nothing-  has  so  brouoht  to  the  consciousness  of  the 
community  the  meaning  of  the  ministerial  system. 
Instinctively  they  connect  the  death  of  Christopher 
with  the  attempt  to  enforce  the  unrighteous  laws. 
Richardson  is  in  the  employ  of  the  government.  There 
is  no  evidence  that  Theodore  New\dlle  or  Nathaniel 
Coffin  or  any  of  the  officers  of  the  customs  engaged 
him  to  remove  the  effigy ;  he  did  it  on  his  own  ac- 
count, and  must  suffer  for  it,  but  the  obloquy  falls, 
nevertheless,    upon    the    officers    of    the    crown,    and 


CHRISTOPHER  SNIDER.  127 

especially  upon  the  soldiers,  who  are  a  constant  men- 
ace.    I  fear  this  is  but  the  beginning  of  trouble." 

Tom  had  been  called  upon  to  testify  as  a  witness  in 
regard  to  the  shooting.  He  had  heard  the  informer 
ask  the  peddler  of  charcoal  and  the  farmer  to  run 
against  the  effigy  with  their  teams ;  had  seen  the  snow- 
balls and  brickbat  fly,  the  shooting,  and  had  assisted 
in  caring  for  the  wounded  and  summoning  Doctor 
Warren. 

"  Have  you  any  idea,  Tom,  who  placed  the  effigy 
there  ?  "  Mrs.  Brandon  asked. 

"  I  might  have  an  idea,  which  might  be  correct  or 
which  might  not  be.  A  supposition  isn't  testimony. 
I  don't  think  I  '11  say  anything  about  it,"  said  Tom. 

"  Can  you  guess  who  carved  it  ?  "  Berinthia  asked 
earnestly. 

"  Anybody  can  guess,  Brinth,  but  the  guess  might 
not  be  worth  anything  ;  I  '11  not  try." 

"  You  Sons  of  Liberty  don't  let  out  your  secrets," 
Berinthia  said. 

"  If  we  did  they  would  n't  be  secrets." 

Never  had  there  been  such  a  funeral  in  the  town  as 
that  of  Christopher  Snider.  The  schools  were  closed 
that  the  scholars  might  march  in  procession.  Mer- 
chants put  up  the  shutters  of  their  stores ;  joiners,  car- 
penters, ropemakers,  blacksmiths,  all  trades  and  occu- 
pations laid  down  their  tools  and  made  their  way  to 
the  Liberty-Tree,  where  the  procession  was  to  form. 
Mothers  flocked  to  the  little  cottage  in  Frog  Lane  to 
weep  with  a  mother  bereft  of  her  only  child.  Tom 
Brandon  and  five  other  young  men  were  to  carry  the 
bier.      The  newspaper  published  by  Benjamin  Edes 


128        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

expressed  the  hope  that  none  but  friends  of  freedom 
would  join  in  the  procession. 

Robert  made  his  way  to.  the  Liberty  Tree  at  the 
hour  appointed.  A  great  crowd  had  assembled. 
Somebody  had  nailed  a  board  to  the  tree,  upon  which 
were  painted  texts  from  the  Bible :  — 

"  TIiou  sJialt  take  no  satisfaction  for  the  life  of  a 
murderer.     He  shall  surely  he  put  to  deaths 

"  Though  hand  join  in  hand.,  the  wicked  shall  not 
pass  u?ipunished.^^ 

The  clock  was  striking  three  when  the  bearers 
brought  the  coffin  from  the  home  of  the  mother  in 
Frog  Lane  to  the  Liberty  Tree.  While  the  proces- 
sion was  forming  Robert  had  an  opportunity  to  look 
at  the  inscriptions  upon  the  black  velvet  pall.  They 
were  in  Latin,  but  a  gentleman  with  a  kindly  face, 
Master  Lovell,  translated  them  to  the  people. 

^' Latet  Anguis  in  Herha." 

"  Hceret  Lateris  lethalis  Armada." 

"  Innocentia  nusquam  in  tuta." 

The  serpent  is  lurking  in  the  grass. 
The  fatal  dart  is  thrown. 
Innocence  is  nowhere  safe. 

AU  the  bells  were  tolling.  Mothers  and  maidens 
along  the  street  were  weeping  for  the  mother  follow- 
ing the  body  of  her  boy.  Old  men  uncovered  their 
heads,  and  bared  their  snow-white  locks  to  the  wintry 
air,  as  the  pall-bearers  with  slow  and  measured  steps 
moved  past  them.  Schoolboys,  more  than  six  hmi- 
dred,  two  by  two,  hand  in  hand  ;  apprentices,  journey- 
men, citizens,  three  thousand  in  number;  magistrates, 


CHRISTOPHER  SNIDER. 


129 


ministers,  merchants,  lawyers,  physicians  in  chaises  and 
carriages,  —  composed  the  throng  bearmg  the  mur- 
dered boy  to  his  burial. 

Listen,  my  Lord  Frederick  North,  to  the  mournful 
pealing  of  the  bells  of  Boston !  Listen,  King  George, 
to   the    trampmg  of  _^ 

the  schoolmates  of 
Christopher  Snider, 
laying  aside  their 
books  for  the  day  to 
bear  witness  against 
your  royal  policy,  — 
boys  now,  men  ere 
long,  —  protesting 
with  tears  to-day, 
with  muskets  by  and 
by  !  Listen,  ye  men 
who  have  purchased 
seats  in  parliament 
to  satisfy  your  greed ! 

The  assembled  multitude,  the  tolling  bells,  the 
tramping  feet,  the  emblems  of  mourning,  are  the 
indignant  protest  of  an  outraged  commimity  against 
tyranny  and  oppression,  —  the  enforcement  of  law  by 
the  show  of  force,  —  by  musket,  sword,  and  bayonet. 
Listen,  and  take  warning.^ 

^  Historians  have  made  little  account  of  the  shooting  of  Christo- 
pher Snider,  but  there  can  be  no  question  that  it  led  directly  to  the 
collision  between  the  ropemakers  and  soldiers  one  week  later,  resulting 
in  the  Massacre  of  March  5,  1770. 


Lord    North. 


IX. 

THE    LOBSTERS    AND    ROPEMAKER8. 

Although  March  had  come,  the  snow  was  still 
deep  upon  the  ground.  Robert  and  Rachel  could  pro- 
long their  stay  in  Boston  and  enjoy  the  hospitality  of 
their  friends.  It  was  Monday  evening  the  5th  of  the 
month.     Berinthia  had  invited  Ruth  Newville  to  tea. 

"The  soldiers  and  the  ropemakers  are  at  logger- 
heads," said  Tom,  as  he  came  in  and  laid  aside  his 
coat. 

"  What  is  the  trouble  ?  "  Robert  asked. 

"  It  seems  that  a  negro  hemp-stretcher,  down  in 
Gray's  ropewalk,i  last  Friday  asked  a  soldier  if  he 
wanted  to  work,  and  the  red-coat  replied  he  did. 
What  the  ropemaker  told  him  to  do  was  n't  very  nice, 
and  they  had  a  set-to.  The  soldier  got  the  worst  of 
it,  and  swore  vengeance.  The  redcoat  went  to  the 
barracks,  but  was  soon  back  again  with  eight  others, 
armed  with  clubs,  swearing  they  'd  split  the  skulls  of 

^  Edward  Gray,  in  1712,  purchased  a  large  tract  of  land  on  the 
westerlj-  side  of  Hutchinson's  Lane,  now  Pearl  Street,  and  erected  a 
ropewalk  seven  liundred  and  forty  feet  long.  The  large  number  of 
ships  built  in  Boston  and  other  New  England  towns  made  it  a  lucra- 
tive occupation.  His  son,  Harrison  Gray,  was  appointed  treasurer  of 
the  Province.  He  was  a  loyalist,  and  took  his  departure  from  Boston 
upon  its  evacuation  by  the  British.  His  property  was  confiscated  to 
the  state.  He  proceeded  from  Halifax  to  London,  where  he  gave 
genei'ous  hospitality  to  liis  fellow  exiles  in  that  city. 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.       131 

the  beggars.  The  ropemakers  seized  their  woolding- 
sticks,  and  they  had  it  hot  and  heavy,  but  the  lobsters 
got  a  licking.  You  'd  better  believe  there  was  a  buz- 
zing in  the  barracks.  Pretty  soon  between  thirty  and 
forty  of  the  hirelings,  armed  with  bayonets,  clubs,  and 
cutlasses,  rushed  down  to  the  ropewalk.  The  rope- 
makers  rallied,  but  all  told  they  were  only  fourteen. 
They  showed  what  stuff  they  were  made  of,  though, 
and  proved  themselves  the  better  men.  They  whacked 
the  lobsters'  skulls  and  drove  them." 

"  Good  for  the  ropemakers,"  said  Berinthia,  clapping 
her  hands. 

Robert  saw  a  lighting  up  of  Miss  NewviUe's  eyes, 
but  no  word  fell  from  her  lips. 

"  I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Brandon,  "  there  will  be  an  out- 
break between  the  soldiers  and  the  people.  Since  the 
funeral  of  Snider,  the  soldiers  have  been  growing 
more  insolent.  The  long  stay  of  the  troops  with 
nothing  to  do  except  the  daily  drill  and  parade,  and 
drinking  toddy,  has  demoralized  them.  The  under- 
officers  are  but  little  better  than  the  men,  spending 
most  of  their  time  in  the  taverns  playing  cards.  Dis- 
cipline is  lax.  I  shall  not  be  surprised  at  whatever 
may  happen." 

Miss  Newville  and  Robert  sat  down  to  a  game  of 
checkers.  He  debated  with  himself  whether  or  not 
he  would  let  her  win  the  first  game.  Woidd  it  be 
gentlemanly  to  defeat  her  ?  Ought  he  not  to  aUow  her 
to  win  ?  But  almost  before  he  was  aware  of  what  had 
happened  she  was  victor,  and  he  was  making  apology 
for  playing  so  badly.  Again  the  men  were  set,  and 
again,  although  he  did  his  best  to  win,  his  men  were 
swept  from  the  board. 


132         DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  see  I  'm  no  match  for  you,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  about  that.  I  saw  your  mis- 
take. You  would  soon  learn  to  correct  it,"  she  said 
with  a  smile. 

Although  yet  early  in  the  evening,  Miss  Newville 
said  she  must  be  going  home,  as  her  parents  might  be 
concerned  for  her. 

"  I  trust  the  soldiers  will  not  molest  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Brandon,  bidding  Miss  Newville  farewell. 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  safe  with  Mr.  Walden,"  she 
rephed.  There  was  a  meaning  in  her  eyes  which  he 
alone  imderstood,  the  silent  reference  to  their  first 
meeting. 

The  moon  was  at  its  full,  its  silver  light  gleaming 
upon  the  untrodden  snow.  There  was  no  need  for  them 
to  hasten  their  steps  when  the  night  was  so  lovely. 

"  Oh,  look,  Mr.  Walden  !  see  Christ  Church  !  "  Miss 
Newville  exclaimed.  "  Tower,  belfry,  turret,  and  stee- 
ple are  glazed  with  frozen  sea-mist  and  driven  snow." 

The  church  loomed  before  them  in  the  refulgent  light, 
a  mass  of  shining  silver.  Above  all  was  the  taper- 
ing spire  and  golden  vane. 

"  It  is  the  poetry  of  nature.  Such  beauty  thrills 
me.  I  feel,  but  cannot  express,  my  pleasure,"  she 
said. 

"It  is  indeed  very  beautiful,"  he  replied.  "  The 
snow,  the  silver,  gold,  light  and  shade,  the  steeple 
tapering  to  a  point,  make  it  a  wonderful  picture. 
Would  that  you  could  see  on  such  a  night  as  this  the 
view  from  my  own  home,  —  upland  and  valley,  mea- 
dow and  forest,  walls  and  fences,  leafless  oaks,  ehns, 
and  maples  in  fields   and    pastures,  pure  white    and 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.       133 

shining  like  polished  silver  in  the  moonlight,  and 
all  the  twigs  and  branches  glittering  with  diamonds. 
On  such  nights,  when  the  crust  is  hard  and  firm,  we 
boys  and  girls  pile  ourselves  on  a  sled  and  go  like  the 
wind  from  the  top  of  the  hill  in  the  pasture  down  to 
the  meadow,  across  the  intervale,  over  the  river  bank, 
and  out  upon  the  gleaming  ice.  We  wake  the  echoes 
with  our  laughter  and  have  a  jolly  time." 

"  Oh,  how  I  should  enjoy  it,"  she  said. 

Suddenly  they  heard  other  voices,  and  as  they  turned 
the  corner  of  the  street  came  upon  a  group  of  men 
and  boys  armed  with  cudgels. 

"  We  '11  give  it  to  the  lobsters,"  they  heard  one  say. 

"  I  fear  there  may  be  trouble,"  Robert  remarked, 
recalling  the  conversation  at  the  supper-table. 

Passing  the  home  of  Doctor  Warren,  they  saw  a 
light  burning  in  his  office,  and  by  the  shadow  on  the 
window  curtain  knew  he  was  seated  at  his  writing- 
desk.  Turning  from  Hanover  towards  Queen  Street, 
they  found  several  soldiers  in  earnest  conversation 
blocking  the  way. 

"I'd  like  to  split  the  heads  of  the  blackguards," 
said  one,  flourishing  a  cutlass. 

"  Will  you  please  allow  me  to  pass  ?  "  said  Robert. 

"  When  you  take  off  your  hat  to  us,"  the  answer. 

"  This  is  the  lung's  highway,"  said  Robert. 

He  felt  Miss  Newville's  arm  clinging  more  firmly 
to  his  own. 

"  You  can  pass  if  your  wench  gives  me  a  kiss," 
said  the  soldier  with  the  cutlass. 

Swiftly  Robert's  right  arm  and  clenched  fist  sent 
the  fellow  headlong  into    the  snow.     He    faced   the 


134       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

others  a  moment,  and  then  with  Miss  Newville  walked 
leisurely  away.  He  could  feel  her  heart  palpitating 
against  his  arm.  He  east  a  glance  behind,  but  the 
redcoats  were  not  following  him. 

"  It  seems  we  are  fated  to  meet  ill-bred  men,"  he 
said. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Walden,  how  resolute  and  brave  you 
are!" 

"  It  is  not  difficidt  to  be  courageous  when  you  know 
you  are  right." 

"  But  they  are  so  many." 

"  We  are  more  than  they,"  he  replied,  smiling. 

"  More  than  they !     We  are  only  two." 

"  He  who  is  in  the  right  has  all  of  God's  host  with 
him.  They  knew  they  were  in  the  wrong  ;  that  made 
them  cowards." 

Again  he  felt  the  warmth  and  pressure  of  her  arm, 
as  if  she  would  say,  "  I  know  I  shall  be  safe  with  you 
to  protect  me." 

They  were  passing  King's  Chapel.  Its  gray  walls 
never  had  seemed  so  picturesque  as  on  that  evening 
with  the  moon  casting  the  shadows  of  pillar,  cornice, 
roof,  and  tower  upon  the  pure  white  snow  that  had 
fallen  through  the  daj\  Beyond  it  were  the  young 
elms  of  Long  Acre,  twig  and  limlj  a  mass  of  glittering 
diamonds.  They  stood  at  last  beneath  the  portico  of 
her  home. 

"  I  liave  been  thinking,"  she  said,  "■  of  the  strange 
happenings  that  have  come  to  us  —  how  you  have  been 
my  protector  from  insult.  I  cannot  express  my  grati- 
tude. Mr.  Walden."' 

••  Fli'ase    do    not    mention    it.    Miss    Newville.      J 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.       135 

should  indeed  be  a  poltroon  did  I  not  resent  an  indig- 
nity to  a  lady,  especially  to  you.  I  esteem  it  an  honor 
to  have  made  your  acquaintance.  May  I  say  I  cannot 
find  words  to  express  the  pleasure  I  have  had  in  your 
society?  I  do  not  know  that  I  shall  see  you  again 
before  we  start  on  our  homeward  journey." 

"  Must  you  go  ?  Can  you  not  prolong  your  stay?  " 
"  We  have  already  overstayed  our  time ;  but  not  to 


King's  Chapel,  1895. 

our  regret.  I  never  shall  forget,  Miss  Newville,  these 
days  and  evenings  which  you,  with  Berinthia,  Tom, 
Miss  Shrimpton,  and  Roger  Stanley  have  made  so  en- 
joyable." 

"  I  trust  we  shall  not  be  like  ships  that  signal  each 
other  in  mid-ocean,  then  sail  away  never  to  meet 
again,"  she  replied. 

She  reached  out  her  hand  to  bid  him  fareweU.  It 
rested  willingly  in  his. 

"  I  hope,"  slie  said,  "  I  never  shall  be  so  ungi-ateful 


136       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

as  to  forget  what  you  have  done  for  me.  I  certainly 
shall  not  forget  the  lesson  you  have  taught  me  —  to 
stand  resolutely  for  the  right.  I  shall  always  be  pleased 
to  see  you." 

"  You  may  be  sure,  Miss  Newville,  I  never  shall 
fail  to  pay  my  respects  to  one  whose  very  presence 
makes  life  more  beautiful  and  worth  the  living." 

The  full  moon  was  falling  upon  her  face.  Her  eyes 
seemed  to  be  looking  far  away.  He  saw  for  a  mo- 
ment a  shade  of  sadness  upon  her  countenance,  suc- 
ceeded by  a  smile.     Her  hand  was  still  resting  in  his. 

"  Good-by  tiU  we  meet  again,"  her  parting  words. 

Never  before  had  he  felt  such  an  uplifting  of  spirit. 
"  Till  we  meet  again "  would  ever  be  like  a  strain  of 
music.  He  lingered  awhile,  loath  to  leave  the  spot. 
A  light  was  soon  shining  in  her  chamber.  The  cur- 
tains revealed  her  shadow.  It  was  something  to 
know  she  was  there.  Would  she  think  of  him  when 
lying  down  to  sleep  ?  When  would  he  again  behold 
those  loving  eyes,  that  radiant  face,  that  beauty  of 
sold  seen  in  every  feature?  What  had  the  futiu-e 
in  store  for  them?  Ah!  what  had  it?  The  light  in 
the  chamber  was  extinguished,  and  he  turned  away. 
Once  more  he  lingered  by  the  gray  walls  of  King's 
Chapel  to  take  a  parting  look  at  the  white-curtained 
window,  and  then  walked  to  Queen  Street,  past  the 
jail  and  printing  office.  It  would  be  a  pleasure  to 
stand  once  more  upon  the  spot  where  first  he  met  her. 

He  heard  a  commotion  in  the  direction  of  Dock 
Square,  —  oaths  and  curses ;  and  suddenly  beheld  citi- 
zens runnino-.  followed  l)y  soldiers,  whose  swords  were 
Hashing-  in  the  moonlight.      They  followed  the  fleeing 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.       137 

people  nearly  to  the  town  pump,  then  turned  and  dis- 
appeared in  an  alley. 

"  What  has  happened  ? "  Robert  asked  of  a  man 
who  had  a  pail  of  oysters  in  his  hand. 

"  What?  Just  see  what  I  've  got  from  the  hellish 
rascals,"  the  man  repHed,  setting  do\vn  the  pail  and 
pointing  to  a  gash  on  his  shoidder.  "  The  red-coated 
devils  are  cutting  and  slashing  everybody.  They  are 
ripping  and  swearing  they  '11  kill  every  blasted  Son 
of  Liberty." 

While  the  oysterman  was  speaking,  a  little  boy 
came  along,  piteously  crying. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  my  boy  ?  "  Robert  asked. 

Amid  his  sobs  it  was  learned  that  the  boy's  father 
sent  him  on  an  errand ;  that  while  peacefully  walking 
the  street,  a  soldier  rushed  upon  liim  swearing,  aim- 
ing a  blow,  felling  him  to  the  ground  with  liis  sword. 

"  I  '11  kill  every  Yankee  whelp  in  Boston,"  said 
the  redcoat. 

Again  there  was  a  commotion  —  soldiers  rushing 
towards  Dock  Square. 

"  Where  are  the  blackguards?  let 's  kill  'em,"  they 
shouted. 

"  Come  on,  you  dirty  cowards ;  we  are  ready  for 
ye,"  the  answering  shout. 

Robert  could  hear  oaths  and  vile  words,  and  then 
the  whacking  of  clubs,  and  saw  the  soldiers  fleeing 
towards  their  barracks  followed  by  the  people.  A 
man  with  a  stout  club  came  along  the  street. 

"  What 's  going  on  ?  "  Robert  asked. 

"  We  are  giving  it  to  the  poltroons.  We  '11  drive 
'em  off  Long  Wharf.     They  rushed  out  upon  us  just 


138       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

now,  with  shovels,  tongs,  swords,  and  baggemets,  and 
called  us  cowards.  We  whacked  'em  with  our  clubs 
and  drove  the  ruffians  —  blast  their  picters." 

The  commotion  was  increasing.  Robert  walked 
towards  the  barracks  to  learn  the  meaning  of  it. 
Reaching  an  alley,  he  saw  a  crowd  of  soldiers,  and 
that  the  officers  were  trying  to  get  them  within  the 
barrack  gates.  Towards  Dock  Square  was  a  group 
of  young  men  flourishing  cudgels,  and  daring  the 
lobsters  to  come  on. 

"  Let 's  set  the  bell  ringing,"  he  heard  one  say, 
and  two  apprentices  rushed  past  him  towards  the 
meetinghouse. 

The  officers,  the  whUe,  were  closing  the  barrack 
gates. 

"  To  the  main  guard !  Let  us  clean  out  that 
viper's  nest,"  shouted  one ;  and  the  apprentices 
moved  towards  King  Street. 

The  bell  was  ringing.  Robert  walked  back  to  the 
pump,  and  past  it  to  the  meetinghouse.  Citizens 
weie  coming  with  fire-buckets.  He  could  see  by  the 
clock  above  him  that  it  was  ten  minutes  past  nine. 
Mr.  Knox,  the  bookseller,  came,  out  of  breath  with 
running. 

"It  is  not  a  fire,  but  there  is  trouble  with  the 
soldiers,"  said  Robert. 

Together  they  walked  down  King  Street,  and  saw 
the  sentinel  at  the  Custom  House  loading  his  gun. 
Robert  learned  that  a  boy  had  hurled  a  snowball  at 
him. 

*■'  Stand  back,  or  I  "11  slioot,"  said  the  soldier  to 
those  natlierin"-  round  him. 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.       139 

"  If  you  fire,  you  '11  die  for  it,"  said  Mr.  Knox. 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  do,"  the  sentinel  replied  with  an 
oath. 

"  You  dare  n't  fire,"  shouted  a  boy. 

The  redcoat  raised  his  gun,  and  pulled  the  trigger. 
The  lock  clicked,  but  the  powder  did  not  flash. 

"  Spit  in  the  pan  !  "  said  another  boy,  chaffing  him. 

"  Guard  !  Guard !  "  shouted  the  sentinel,  calling 
the  main  guard. 

Captain  Preston,  with  a  file  of  men,  came  from  the 
guardhouse  upon  the  rim,  in  response  to  the  call. 
The  meetinghouse  bell  was  still  ringing,  and  other 
bells  began  to  clang.  The  soldiers,  nine  in  number, 
formed  in  front  of  the  Custom  House  with  their  bay- 
onets fixed,  and  brought  their  guns  to  a  level  as  if 
to  fire.  Robert  thought  there  were  thirty  or  more 
young  men  and  boys  in  the  street.  Among  them  was 
a  burly  negi'O  leaning  on  a  stick,  and  looking  at  the 
soldiers.     The  others  called  him  Crisp. 

"  Are  your  guns  loaded  ?  "  asked  a  man  of  Captain 
Preston,  commanding  the  soldiers. 

"  Yes." 

"  Are  they  going  to  fire?  " 

"  They  can't  without  my  orders." 

"  For  God's  sake,  captain,  take  your  men  back 
again,  for  if  you  fije  your  life  must  answer  for  it," 
said  Mr.  Knox,  seizing  the  captain  by  the  coat. 

"  I  know  what  I  'm  about,"  Captain  Preston  replied. 

The  bayonets  of  the  soldiers  almost  touched  the 
breasts  of  Crispus  Attucks  and  Samuel  Gray.  The 
negro  was  still  leaning  upon  liis  cudgel,  and  Gray 
stood  proudly  before  them  \vith  folded  arms,  a  free 


140       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

citizen,  in  the  dignity  of  his  manhood  protesting 
against  the  system  of  government  instituted  by  King 
George  and  his  ministry. 

"  You  don't  dare  to  fire,"  he  said. 

Why  should  they  fire?  The  jeering  apprentices 
before  them  had  no  guns,  only  sticks  and  clubs ;  they 
were  not  fifty  in  number.  What  had  they  done? 
Tlirown  a  snowball  at  the  sentinel ;  called  him 
names ;  pointed  their  fingers  at  him ;  dared  him  to 
fire.  It  was  not  this,  however,  which  had  brought 
the  gims  to  a  level ;  but  the  drubbing  the  rope- 
makers  had  given  them,  and  the  funeral  of  Christo- 
pher Snider.  These  were  not  the  beginning  of  the 
trouble,  but  rather  the  arrogance,  greed,  selfishness, 
and  intolerance  of  the  repressive  measures  of  a  bigot 
king,  a  servile  ministry,  and  a  venial  Parliament. 

Robert  heard  the  clicking  of  gun-locks.  He  did 
not  hear  any  order  from  Captain  Preston,  but  a  gun 
flashed,  and  then  the  entire  file  fired.  He  saw  the 
negro,  Samuel  Gray,  and  several  others  reel  to  the 
ground,  their  warm  blood  spurting  upon  the  newly 
fallen  snow.  There  was  a  shriek  from  the  fleeing 
apprentices.  Robert,  Mr.  Knox,  and  several  others 
ran  to  those  who  had  been  shot,  lifted  them  tenderly, 
and  carried  them  into  a  house.  Doctor  Warren,  hear- 
ing the  volley,  came  running  to  learn  the  meaning  of 
it.  He  examined  the  wounded.  "  Crispus  Attucks 
has  been  struck  by  two  balls  ;  either  would  have  been 
fatal.     He  died  instantly,"  the  doctor  said. 

By  the  side  of  the  negro  lay  Samuel  Gray,  who 
had  stood  so  calmly  with  folded  arms,  the  bayonets 
within  a  foot  of  his  heart.     In  the  bloom  of  youth. 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.       141 

Samuel  Maverick,  seventeen  years  old,  who  had  come 
to  find  the  fire,  was  lying  upon  the  ground,  his  heart's 
blood  oozing  upon  the  snow.  Patrick  Carr  and  Sam- 
uel Caldwell,  who  also  had  come  to  put  out  a  fire,  were 
dying,  and  six  others  were  wounded.  The  soldiers 
were  reloading  their  guns,  preparing  for  another  vol- 
ley. Robert  heard  the  rat-a-tat  of  a  drum,  and  saw 
the  Twenty-Ninth  Regiment  march  into  the  street 
from  Pudding  Lane,  the  front  rank  kneeling,  the 
rear  rank  standing,  with  guns  loaded,  bayonets  fixed, 
and  ready  to  fire. 

"  To  arms !     To  arms !  " 

He  could  hear  the  cry  along  Cornhill,  and  down  in 
Dock  Square.  All  the  meetinghouse  bells  were  clang- 
ing and  people  were  gathering  with  gTins,  swords, 
clubs,  shovels,  crowbars,  and  pitchforks. 

Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson  came.^ 

^  Thomas  Hutchinson  was  a  native  of  Boston.  He  graduated  from 
Harvard  College,  1727.  He  became  a  merchant,  but  was  unsuccessful ; 
studied  law  and  opened  an  office  in  Boston.  He  was  sent  to  London 
by  the  town  as  its  agent,  and  upon  his  return  was  elected  to  the  legis- 
lature several  years  in  succession.  He  held  the  office  of  judge  of 
probate,  and  was  a  councilor  from  1749  to  1766,  a  lieutenant-governor 
from  1758  to  1771.  He  was  also  appointed  chief  justice,  1758.  At 
the  time  this  story  opens  he  was  holding  four  high  offices  under  the 
crown.  Upon  the  departure  of  Governor  Francis  Bernard  for  England 
in  the  autumn  of  1769,  Hutchinson  became  acting  governor.  He  was 
commissioned  as  governor,  1771.  In  May,  1770,  he  issued  his  procla- 
mation for  the  legislature  to  meet  in  Cambridge;  but  that  body 
insisted  that  the  terms  of  the  charter  required  the  General  Court  to 
assemble  in  Boston.  A  sharp  and  bitter  controversy  followed.  Doc- 
tor Franklin  was  appointed  agent  of  the  Province  to  look  after  its 
welfare  before  Parliament.  In  1773  he  came  into  possession  of  a 
large  number  of  lettere  written  by  Hutchinson  to  Mr.  Whately,  one  of 
the  under-secretaries,  advising  the  ministry  to  take  coercive  measures 
with  Massachusetts.  Franklin  sent  the  letters  to  Thomas  Cushing 
speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives.     Their  publication  aroused 


142       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Are  you  the  officer  who  was  in  command  of  the 
troops  ?  "  he  asked,  addressing  Captain  Preston. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  you  have  no  power  to  fire  upon  the 
people  except  by  order  of  a  magistrate  ?  " 

"  I  was  obliged  to  fire  to  save  the  sentry." 

"  That 's  a  lie,"  shouted  the  crowd. 

The  surging  multitude  compelled  the  lieutenant- 
governor  to  enter  the  Town  House.  A  few  moments 
later  he  appeared  upon  the  balcony  overlooking  King 
Street. 

"  I  am  greatly  grieved,"  he  said,  "  at  what  has 
happened.  I  pledge  you  my  honor  that  this  unhappy 
occurrence  shall  be  inquired  into.  The  law  shall  have 
its  course.  Now,  fellow-citizens,  let  me  urge  you  to 
retire  to  your  homes." 

"  No,  no !  Send  the  troops  to  their  barracks. 
We  won't  go  tiU  they  are  gone !  "  the  shout  from  the 
people. 

"  I  have  no  power  to  order  them." 

the  indignation  of  the  people,  which  was  increased  by  the  action  of 
Hutchinson  in  connection  with  the  arrival  of  the  tea-ships.  He  be- 
came very  unpopular  and  sailed  for  England,  June  3, 1774.  So  eager 
was  the  king  to  see  him  that  he  was  summoned  into  his  royal  presence 
before  he  had  time  to  change  his  clothing.  He  assured  King  George 
that  the  bill  closing  the  port  of  Boston  to  commerce  was  a  wise  and 
beneficent  measure,  and  would  compel  the  people  to  submit  to  royal 
autliority.  The  conversation  lasted  two  hours.  Upon  its  conclusion 
the  king  expressed  his  great  pleasure  for  the  information  and  comfort 
Hutchinson  had  given  liini.  He  was  created  a  baronet,  and  was  con- 
sulted by  Lord  North  and  the  other  members  of  the  ministry.  That 
his  opinions  had  great  weight  with  the  king  and  his  ministers,  and  that 
he  was  largely  instrumental  in  bringing  about  the  Revolutionary  War, 
cannot  be  (questioned.  He  died  at  Brompton,  near  London,  June  3. 
1780, 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS. 


143 


The  Town  House. 


"  The  troops  to  their  barracks  !  to  their  barracks  !  " 
"  I  cannot  do  it ;  I  have  no  authority." 
"  Arrest   Preston  !     Hang    the    \Tllains !     To   the 
barracks !  "  shouted  the  angiy  midtitude. 

"  I  will  consult  with  the  officers,"  said  Hutchin- 
son. 

He  went  into  the  council  chamber.  Louder  the 
outcry  of  the  indignant  j)eople.  The  troops  were  as 
they  had  been,  dra^^'n  up  in  two  Imes,  the  front  rank 
kneeling,  ready  to  fire  upon  the  gathering  midtitude. 
Robert  felt  that  it  was  a  critical  moment.  If  the 
troops  were  to  fire  into  the  surging  throng,  the  gutters 
would  rmi  with  blood. 


144       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  The  troops  to  their  barracks !  Away  with  them !  " 
the  cry. 

"•  I  will  order  them  to  their  barracks,"  said  Colonel 
Dalrymple,  who  recognized  the  danger  of  the  moment. 

Robert  breathed  more  freely  when  the  front  rank 
rose,  and  the  troops  filed  once  more  through  Pudding 
Lane  to  their  quarters. 

Tom  Brandon  had  come  with  his  gun  ready  to' 
fight.  A  great  crowd  gathered  around  the  Town 
House  where  the  governor  was  holding  a  court  of 
inquiry.  Robert  and  Tom  edged  themselves  into  the 
room,  and  heard  what  was  said  and  saw  what  was 
going  on.  It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing when  the  magistrates  directed  the  sheriff  to  put 
Captain  Preston  and  the  soldiers  who  had  fired  the 
volley  in  jail.  It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  Robert 
and  Tom  to  go  up  Queen  Street  and  see  the  redcoats 
enter  the  jail  and  hear  the  key  click  in  the  lock  behind 
them.     Civil  law  was  still  supreme. 

The  niglit  was  far  gone  when  Robert  reached  the 
Brandon  home.  Although  retiring  to  his  chamber,  he 
could  not  compose  himself  to  sleep.  He  was  looking 
into  the  future,  wondering  what  would  be  the  outcome 
of  the  massacre. 

Long  before  the  rising  of  the  sun  the  following 
morning,  the  streets  were  swarming  with  people,  has- 
tening in  from  the  country,  with  muskets  on  their 
shouldei's,  with  indignation  and  fierce  determination 
manifest  in  every  feature,  assembling  in  Faneuil  Hall ; 
but  only  a  few  of  tlu;  nudtitiide  could  get  into  the 
building. 

••  The  01(1   South  !   Old   South  I "'  cried  the  people, 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  liOPEMAKERS.       145 

^^ 
and  the  crowd  surged  through  Dock  Square  and  along 

Cornhill  to  the  Old  South  Meetinghouse.  Samuel 
Adams,  John  Hancock,  Joseph  Warren,  and  others 
were  chosen  a  committee  to  wait  on  the  governor  in 
the  council  chamber. 

"  The  inhabitants  and  soldiery  can  no  longer  live 
together  in  safety ;  nothing  can  restore  peace  and  pre- 
vent further  carnage  but  the  immediate  removal  of 
the  troops,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  speaking  for  the  com- 
mittee. 

Colonel  Dalrymple  informed  Governor  Hutchinson 
that,  as  the  Twenty-Ninth  Eegiment  had  done  the 
mischief,  he  was  willing  it  should  be  sent  down  the 
harbor  to  Fort  William,  and  he  would  direct  its 
removal. 

"  The  people,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  "  not  only  of  this 
town,  but  of  all  the  surrounding  towns,  are  determined 
that  all  the  troops  shall  be  removed." 

"  To  attack  the  king's  troops  would  be  high  treason, 
and  every  man  concerned  would  forfeit  his  life  and 
estate,"  said  Hutchinson. 

"  The  people  demand  their  immediate  withdrawal," 
Mr.  Adams  replied,  bowing,  and  taking  his  departure. 

Cornhill,  all  the  way  from  the  Town  House  to  the 
Old  South,  was  crowded  with  resolute  and  determined 
citizens,  equipped  with  muskets  and  powder-horns. 
They  saw  Samuel  Adams,  loved  and  revered,  descend 
the  steps  of  the  Town  House,  followed  by  the  other 
members  of  the  committee. 

"  Make  way  for  the  committee!  "  the  cry. 

"  Hurrah  for  Sam  Adams  I  "  the  shout. 

They  saw  the  man  they  loved  lift  his  hat.     They 


146       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

knew  King  George  wanted  him  sent  to  England  to  be 
tried  for  treason  ;  that  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchin- 
son was  ready  to  aid  in  such  a  plan ;  but  there  he  was, 
more  determined  than  ever  to  maintain  the  rights  of 
the  people. 

Tom  worked  his  way  into  the  meetinghouse  and 
heard  Mr.  Adams  say  the  lieutenant-governor's  an- 
swer was  unsatisfactory. 

"  All  the  troops  must  go,"  shouted  the  citizens. 

Once  more  Mr.  Adams  and  six  of  his  fellow-citizens 
made  their  way  to  the  Town  House.  The  lieutenant- 
governor  and  the  council  were  assembled  together  with 
Colonel  Dah'ymple,  Admiral  Montague,  and  other 
officers  in  their  scarlet  uniforms,  Robert  edged  his 
way  into  the  building. 

"  It  is  the  unanimous  opinion,"  said  Mr.  Adams, 
"  that  the  reply  of  your  excellency  is  unsatisfactory. 
Nothing  will  satisfy  the  people  other  than  the  imme- 
diate removal  of  all  the  troops." 

"  The  troops  are  not  subject  to  my  authority ;  I 
have  no  power  to  remove  them,"  said  Hutcliinson. 

Robert  saw  Mr.  Adams  raise  his  right  arm  towards 
Hutchinson.     His  words  were  clear  and  distinct :  — 

"  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson,  if  you  have 
power  to  remove  one  regiment,  you  have  power  to 
remove  both.  It  is  at  your  peril  if  you  do  not.  The 
meeting  is  composed  of  three  thousand  people.  They 
are  impatient.  One  thousand  men  have  arrived  from 
the  surrounding-  towns.  The  country  is  in  motion. 
The  people  expect  an  immediate  answer." 

A  whiteness  eanie  into  the  face  of  the  lieutenant- 
srovernor.     His  hands  beaan  to  tremble.     One  hun- 


THE  LOBSTERS  AND  ROPEMAKERS.        147 

dred  years  before,  the  people  in  their  majesty  and 
might  had  put  Edmund  Andros  in  prison.  Might 
they  not  do  the  same  with  him  ? 

"  What  shall  be  done  ? "  he  asked  of  the  council, 
with  trembling  lips. 

"It  is  not  such  people  as  injured  your  house  who 
are  asking  you  to  remove  the  troops,"  said  Council- 
man Tyler ;  "  they  are  the  best  people  of  the  town, 
men  of  property,  supporters  of  religion.  It  is  impos- 
sible, your  excellency,  for  the  troops  to  remain.  If 
they  do  not  go,  ten  thousand  armed  men  will  soon  be 
here." 

"  Men  will  soon  be  here  from  Essex  and  Middle- 
sex," said  Coimcilman  Bussell  of  Charlestown. 

"  Yes,  and  from  Worcester  and  Connecticut,"  said 
Mr.  Dexter  of  Dedham. 

Every  member  said  the  same,  and  advised  their 
removal.  Colonel  Dalrymple  had  consented  that  the 
regiment  which  began  the  disturbance  should  leave, 
but  it  would  be  very  humiliating  if  all  the  troops  were 
to  go.  The  instructions  from  the  king  had  put  the 
military  as  superior  to  the  civil  authority. 

"I  cannot  consent,  your  excellency,  voluntarily  to 
remove  all  the  troops,"  said  Dalrymple. 

"  You  have  asked  the  advice  of  the  councU,"  said 
Councilman  Gray  to  Hutchinson ;  "  it  has  been  given  ; 
you  are  bound  to  conform  to  it." 

Kobert  felt  it  was  a  home-thrust  that  Coimcilman 
Gray  gave,  who  said  further  :  — 

"  If  mischief  shall  come,  your  excellency,  by  means 
of  your  not  doing  what  the  council  has  advised,  you 
alone  must  bear  the  blame.     If  the  commanding  officer 


148       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

after  that  should  refuse  to  remove  the  troops,  the 
blame  then  will  be  at  his  door ! " 

"  I  will  do  what  the  council  has  advised,"  said 
Hutchinson. 

"  I  shall  obey  the  command  of  your  excellency,'* 
said  Dalrymple. 

The  victory  was  won.  "  The  lobsters  have  got  to 
go,"  the  shout  that  went  up  in  the  Old  South,  when 
Mr.  Adams  informed  the  people. 

Very  galling  it  was  to  the  king's  troops  to  hear  the 
drums  of  the  citizens  beating,  and  to  see  armed  men 
patrolling  the  streets,  while  they  were  packing  their 
equipments.  It  was  exasperating  to  be  cooped  up 
in  Fort  William,  with  no  opportunity  to  roam  the 
streets,  insult  the  people,  drink  toddy  in  the  tap-rooms 
of  the  Tun  and  Bacchus  and  the  White  Horse  tav- 
erns. No  longer  coidd  the  lieutenants  and  ensigns 
quarter  themselves  upon  the  people  and  be  waited 
upon  by  negro  servants,  or  spend  their  evenings  with 
young  ladies.  They  who  came  to  maintain  law  and 
order  had  themselves  become  transgressors,  and  were 
being  sent  to  what  was  little  better  than  a  prison, 
while  Captain  Preston  and  the  men  who  fired  upon 
the  unarmed  citizens  were  in  jail  as  murderers.  It 
was  a  humiliating,  exasperating  reflection. 


X. 

MRS.    NEWVILLE'S    DINNER-PARTY. 

His  majesty's  commissioner  of  imposts,  Theodore 
Newville,  being  an  officer  of  tlie  crown,  dispensed  gen- 
erous hospitality.  Gentlemen  of  position  or  culture 
arriving  in  town  were  cordially  entertained.  His  table 
was  abundantly  supplied  with  meats  and  with  wines 
mellowed  by  age.  He  was  loyal  to  his  sovereign ; 
gloried  in  being  an  Englishman,  gave  reverence  to 
King  George,  and  was  respected  and  honored  by  his 
feUow-citizens.  On  Sunday,  in  King's  Chapel,  he 
repeated  with  unction  the  prayer  for  their  majesties 
the  king  and  queen,  and  for  his  royal  highness  the 
Prince  of  Wales.  Not  only  as  a  servant  of  the  crown 
but  as  a  citizen  it  was  his  duty  to  be  loyal  to  the  king. 
He  was  kind,  courteous,  and  tolerant  towards  those 
who  did  not  agree  with  liim  in  political  affairs.  He 
thought  Sam  Adams,  James  Otis,  and  Doctor  Warren 
were  rather  hot-headed,  but  they  were  nevertheless 
frequent  guests  at  his  table. 

Mrs.  Newville  took  pride  in  making  her  home  at- 
tractive. Whether  as  hostess  at  the  dinner-table  or  in 
the  parlor,  she  displayed  tact  and  grace  in  conversa- 
tion. She  was  ever  solicitous  for  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  Ruth,  her  only  child,  and  fondly  hoped 
a  kind  Providence  would  bring  about  an  alliance  with 


150       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

some  worthy  son  of  an  ancient  and  honorable  family. 
Her  day-dreams  pictured  a  possible  marriage  of  her 
beloved  daughter  to  some  lord,  earl,  or  baronet  from 
the  mother  country,  owner  of  a  great  estate,  a  castle, 
or  baronial  hall. 

It  was  an  agreeable  announcement  which  Mr.  New- 
ville  made  to  Mrs.  Newville,  that  the  ship  Robin 
Hood,  sent  out  by  the  Admiralty  to  obtain  masts,  had 
arrived,  bringing  as  passengers  young  Lord  Upperton 
and  his  traveling  companion,  Mr.  Dapper.  His  lord- 
ship had  recently  taken  his  seat  with  the  peers,  and 
was  traveling  for  recreation  and  adventure  in  the  CJolo- 
nies.  Not  only  was  he  a  peer,  but  prospective  Duke 
of  Northfield.  He  was  intimate  with  the  nobility  of 
the  realm,  and  had  kissed  the  hands  of  the  king  and 
queen  in  the  drawing-room  of  Buckingham  Palace. 

Mr.  Dapper  was  several  years  the  senior  of  Lord 
Upperton,  so  intelligent,  agreeable,  polite,  courteous, 
and  of  such  humor,  that  he  was  ever  welcomed  in  the 
drawing-room  of  my  lady  the  Countess  of  Epsom,  the 
Marquise  of  Biddeford,  and  at  the  tables  of  my  Lady 
Stamford,  and  of  her  grace  the  Duchess  of  Alwington. 
The  doors  of  the  London  clubs  were  always  wide  open 
to  one  who  could  keep  the  table  in  a  roar  by  his  wit. 
Lord  Upperton  had  chosen  him  as  Ms  companion  dur- 
ing his  visit  to  liis  majesty's  Colonies. 

"It  will  indeed  be  an  honor  to  entertain  Lord 
Upperton  and  his  friends,''  said  Mrs.  Newville,  with 
sparkling  eyes.  It  was  not  only  the  anticipated  plea- 
sure of  tlieir  company  at  dinner  that  set  her  pulses 
throbbing,  l)ut  the  thought  that  it  might  in  the  end 
make  her  day-di'eams  a  reality. 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       151 

Mr.  Newville  tliouglit  it  would  be  eminently  fitting 
to  invite  the  commander  of  his  majesty's  fleet,  Admi- 
ral Montague,  and  also  the  rector  of  King's  Chapel, 
Reverend  Mr.  Coner  ;  together  they  would  represent 
the  crown  and  the  church. 

Mrs.  Newville  did  not  intend  that  any  bevy  of 
beautiful  girls  should  assemble  around  her  table  and 
be  a  cluster  of  diamonds  to  dazzle  his  lordship  by 
their  brilliancy.  She  would  have  but  one  brilliant, 
her  own  daughter.  The  other  ladies  should  be  of 
mature  years.  She  would  invite  Miss  MUford,  who 
made  it  a  point  to  read  every  new  book ;  Miss  Artley, 
who  could  paint  in  oils,  and  Miss  Chanson,  who  woidd 
sing  a  song  after  dinner,  and  accompany  herself  upon 
the  harpsichord  ;  Mr.  John  Adams,  the  able  lawyer, 
and  his  accomplished  wife. 

From  her  chamber  window,  Ruth  saw  a  lumbering 
coach  drive  up  the  street.  The  footman  in  blue  livery 
opened  the  coach  door,  and  a  young  man,  tall,  hand- 
some, wearing  a  blue  velvet  coat,  the  sleeves  slashed 
with  gold,  an  embroidered  waistcoat,  buff  breeches, 
lace  ruffles,  and  powdered  wig,  walked  up  the  path  ac- 
companied by  a  gentleman  several  years  his  senior, 
faultlessly  dressed,  with  crimson  velvet  coat  and  costly 
ruffles.  The  other  guests  had  previously  arrived. 
Ruth,  in  accordance  with  her  mother's  wishes,  wore 
a  rich  brocaded  silk  of  pure  white.  She  needed  no 
adornment  of  silver,  gold,  or  precious  stones  to  set 
forth  her  loveliness  as  she  entered  the  parlor. 

"  My  lord,  shaU  I  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting 
my  daughter?  "  said  her  mother. 

Lord  Upperton  bowed.    Mrs.  Newville  saw  a  look  of 


152       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

surprise  upon  his  face,  as  if  he  had  not  expected  to 
find  so  sweet  a  flower  in  the  wilderness  of  the  West- 
ern world.  He  bowed  again,  very  politely,  and  ex- 
pressed his  pleasure  at  making  her  acquaintance. 

Pompey,  bowing  low,  informed  Mr.  NewviUe  that 
dinner  was  ready  to  be  served. 

"  My  lord,  may  I  presimie  to  assign  my  daughter 
to  you  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Newville,  giving  her  own  arm  to 
Admiral  Montague. 

Mr.  Dapper  solicited  the  favor  of  Mrs.  Adams's 
company.  As  Miss  Chanson  sang  in  the  choir  at 
King's  Chapel,  Reverend  Mr.  Coner  thought  it 
becoming  to  offer  her  his  arm,  leaving  Miss  Artley  to 
Mr.  Newville,  and  Miss  MiKord  to  Mr.  Adams. 

"  I  presume,  my  lord,  you  find  things  quite  dif- 
ferent here  from  what  you  do  in  England,"  Ruth 
remarked,  feeling  it  was  incumbent  upon  her  to  open 
the  conversation. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Newville,  very  different ;  for  instance, 
in  London,  and  in  ahnost  all  our  towns,  the  houses 
are  mostly  brick,  with  tiles  or  thatch ;  but  here,  they 
are  built  of  wood,  covered  with  sliingles.  Your 
churches  are  meetinghouses.  Queer  name."  Lord 
Upperton  laughed. 

"  Ha,  ha !  I  had  a  funny  experience  the  other 
day.  I  told  the  landlord  of  the  Admiral  Vernon  I 
woidd  like  a  chair  for  myself,  and  another  for  Mr. 
Dapper,  —  tliat  we  wanted  to  see  the  town.  Well, 
what  do  3^ou  think  happened  ?  A  little  later,  in  came 
two  niggers,  each  bringing  a  big  rocking-chair.  '  Dese 
be  de  cheers  you  axed  for,  ]Massa,'  they  said." 

Miss  Newville  laughed  heartily. 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER  PARTY.       153 

"  The  landlord  evidently  did  not  know  you  meant 
sedan-chairs  ;  we  do  not  have  them  here,"  she  said. 

"  More  than  that,  I  told  him  I  should  want  some 
links  for  the  evening,  as  I  was  to  be  out  late.  He 
said  I  could  get  'em  in  Faneuil  HaU  Market,  if  it  was 
sausages  I  wanted." 

Again  Miss  Newville  gave  way  to  laughter. 

"  I  do  not  suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  the  landlord 
ever  had  heard  that  a  link-boy  is  a  torch-bearer." 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  attending  services  at  your 
church  last  Sunday,"  said  Lord  Upperton  to  the 
rector,  when  they  were  seated  at  the  table.  "  I  no- 
ticed that  you  have  a  substantial  stone  edifice." 

"  Yes,  my  lord,  and  we  regard  it  with  what,  I 
trust,  is  reverential  pride.  The  Church  of  God  is  en- 
during, and  the  church's  edifice  should  be  firm  and 
solid,  and  of  material  that  the  tooth  of  time  will  not 
gnaw,"  the  rector  answered. 

"  Ought  it  not  to  be  beautiful  as  well  ?  "  Miss 
Newville  inquired. 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  I  cannot  say  I  think  King's  Chapel  is  beautiful 
in  the  architecture,  with  its  stump  of  a  tower,  and  no 
steeple  or  spire,"  Miss  Newville  replied. 

"  Perhaps  by  and  by  we  shall  have  money  enough 
to  carry  out  the  plan  of  the  architect.  I  admit  it  is 
not  as  attractive  as  it  might  be,"  said  the  rector. 

"  I  never  look  at  the  lower  tier  of  windows  without 
laughing  over  the  wit  of  Reverend  Mr.  Byles  i  in  re- 
gard to  them,"  said  Mr.  Adams. 

*  Rev.  Matthew  Byles,  the  first  pastor  of  HoUis  Street  Church, 
was  born  in  Boston,  170(5,  descended  from  Reverend  John  Cotton,  the 


154       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  What  might  it  be  ?  "  the  rector  asked. 

"  He  said  he  had  heard  of  the  canons  of  the  church, 
but  never  before  had  he  seen  the  portholes." 

The  company  laughed. 

"  Excellent !  Excellent !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Dapper. 

"  The  reverend  gentleman,  Mr.  Byles,  though  dis- 
senting from  our  Apostolic  Church,  I  am  happy  to 
say  is  loyal  to  our  most  gracious  King  George,"  said 
the  rector. 

"  Reverend  Mr.  Byles  is  very  witty,"  Miss  New- 
ville  remarked.  "  He  asked  the  selectmen  several 
times  to  give  their  attention  to  a  quagmire  in  the  road 
near  his  house.  After  long  delay,  they  stepped  into 
a  chaise  and  rode  to  the  spot.  Suddenly  they  found 
themselves  stuck  in  the  mud.  Mr.  Byles  opened  his 
window  and  remarked  that  he  was  glad  they  were 
stirring  in  the  matter  at  last." 

Again  the  company  laughed. 

"  Capital ;  he  must  be  a  genius,"  said  Mr.  Dapper. 

Pompey  served  the  oysters,  large,  fat,  and  juicy. 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,  but  may  I  uiquire  what  these 
may  l)e?"  Mr.  Dapper  inquired. 

"  They  are  oysters.  I  think  you  will  find  them 
quite  palatable,"  Mrs.  New^^lle  replied. 

Mr.  Dapper  put  his  glasses  to  his  eyes,  tilted  an  oys- 
ter on  his  fork,  and  examined  ito 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  swallow  these  mon- 
sters ?  " 

first  Hiinistei'.  and  Ricliard  Mather.  He  was  minister  of  the  parish 
more  tlian  forty  yeare.  lie  was  a  celebrated  wit  and  punster.  He 
maintained  his  alleg-ianee  to  tlie  king-,  and  remained  in  Boston  aft«r 
the  dei)arture  of  the  British.  He  died  in  1788.  His  clock  is  pre- 
served in  the  old  State  House,  by  the  Bostonian  Society. 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       155 

"  We  think  them  fine  eating,"  Mrs.  Adams  replied. 

"  My  lord,"  said  Mr.  Dapper,  turning  to  Upperton, 
"  I  'm  going  to  try  one.  I  've  made  my  last  will  and 
testament.  Tell  'em  at  Almack's,  when  you  get  home, 
that  Dapper  committed  suicide  by  attempting  to  swal- 
low an  oyster." 

"  I  will  send  Pompey  for  the  coroner,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Newville,  laughing. 

"  'Pon  my  soul,  madam,  they  are  delicious.  Bless 
me !  It  is  worth  crossing  the  Atlantic  to  eat  one. 
Try  one,  my  lord,  and  then  you  can  torment  the 
Macaronies  ^  by  telling  them  they  don't  know  any- 
thing about  fine  eating,"  said  Dapper,  after  gulping  it 
down. 

Lord  Upperton  ate  one,  smacked  his  lips,  and  testi- 
fied his  enjoyment  by  clearing  his  plate. 

"  I  dare  say,  my  lord,  that  you  find  many  amusing 
things  here  in  the  Colonies,"  remarked  Mrs.  Adams. 

"  Indeed  I  do.  Yesterday,  as  I  was  smoking  my 
pipe  in  the  tap-room  of  the  Admiral  Vernon,  a  comi- 
tryman  stepped  up  to  me,  and  said,  '  Mister,  may  I 
ax  for  a  little  pig-tail  ? '  I  told  him  I  did  n't  keep 
little  pigs  and  had  n't  any  tails.  I  presumed  he  would 
find  plenty  of  'em  in  the  market." 

Lord  Upperton  was  at  a  loss  to  know  the  meaning 
of  the  shout  of  laughter  given  by  the  company. 

^'  The  bumpkin  replied  if  I  had  n't  any  pig-tail,  a 
bit  of  plug  would  do  just  as  weU  for  a  chaw." 

Again  the  laughter. 

^  The  derisive  term  "  Macaronies"  was  applied  to  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen who  had  visited  Italy,  and  who  upon  returning  to  England 
aped  foreign  customs  in  the  matter  of  dress. 


156       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  expect  I  must  have  made  a  big  bull,  but,  'pon 
my  soul,  I  can't  make  out  where  the  fan  comes  in." 

"  He  was  asking  you  first  for  pig-tail  tobacco  for 
his  pipe,  and  then  for  a  bit  of  plug  tobacco  for  chew- 
ing," Mrs.  Adams  explained. 

"  Oh  ho !  then  that  is  it !  What  a  stupid  donkey 
I  was,"  responded  Lord  Upperton,  laughing  heartily. 
"  He  was  n't  at  all  bashful,"  he  continued,  "  but  was 
well  behaved;  asked  me  where  I  was  from.  I  told 
him  I  was  from  London.  '  Sho  !  is  that  so  ?  Haow  's 
King  George  and  his  wife  ? '  he  asked.  I  told  hiin 
they  were  well.  '  When  you  go  hum,'  said  he,  '  jes 
give  'em  the  'spec's  of  Peter  Bush  wick,  and  tell  George 
that  Yankee  Doodle  ain't  goin'  to  pay  no  tax  on 
tea.'  "  Lord  Upperton  laughed  heartily.  "  I  rather 
like  Peter  Bush  wick,"  he  said.  "  I  'd  give  a  two- 
pound  note  to  have  him  at  Abnack's  for  an  evening. 
He  'd  set  the  table  in  a  roar." 

"My  lord,  shall  I  give  you  some  cranberries?" 
Miss  Newville  asked,  as  she  dished  the  sauce. 

"  Cranberries  !  What  are  they  ?  I  am  ashamed 
to  let  you  know  how  ignorant  I  am,  but  really  I  never 
heard  of  'em  before.     Do  they  grow  on  trees  ?  " 

She  explained  that  they  were  an  uncultivated  fruit, 
gi'owing  on  vines  in  swamps  and  lowlands. 

"  'Pen  my  soul,  they  are  delicious.  And  what  a 
rich  color.  Indeed,  you  do  have  things  good  to  eat," 
he  added,  smacking  his  lips. 

"  I  trust  you  will  relish  a  bit  of  wild  turkey,"  said 
Mr.  Newville,  as  he  carved  the  fowl. 

"  Wild  turkey,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord.     They  are  plentiful  in  the  forests.** 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       157 

Again  Lord  Upperton  smacked  his  lips. 

"  By  Jove,  Dapper,  it  is  superb  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Will  you  try  some  succotash,  my  lord?"  Huth 
inquired. 

"  There  you  have  me  again.     What  a  name !  " 

"It  is  an  Indian  name,  my  lord,"  said  Mrs. 
Adams. 

"  Oh  ho  I  Indian.  They  told  me  I  should  find  the 
people  lived  like  the  savages.  Succotash!  what  is 
it?" 

"Succotash,  my  lord,  is  a  mixture  of  beans  and 
Indian  corn." 

"  Beans  I  beans !  Do  you  eat  beans  over  here  ?  " 
his  lordship  asked. 

"  We  do,  my  lord,"  Mrs.  Adams  replied,  "  and  we 
think  them  very  nutritious  and  palatable,  notwith- 
standing the  maxim,  '  Abstincto  a  fahis.^  Possibly 
you  may  be  a  disciple  of  Pythagoras,  and  believe  that 
the  souls  of  the  dead  are  encased  in  beans,  and  so 
think  it  almost  sacrilegious  for  us  to  use  them  as 
food." 

Lord  Upperton  looked  up  in  astonishment.  Was 
it  possible  that  ladies  in  the  Colonies  were  acquainted 
with  the  classics  ? 

"  In  England  we  feed  our  sheep  on  beans,"  his 
lordship  replied ;  "  and  may  I  ask  what  is  Indian 
corn?  " 

"  Possibly  you  may  call  it  maize  in  England. 
When  our  fathers  came  to  this  country  they  found 
the  Indians  used  it  for  food,  and  so  ever  since  it  has 
been  known  as  Indian  corn." 

"  Beans  for  sheep ;  corn  for  savages.     Pardon  me. 


158       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

madam,  but  I  am  not  a  sheep,  nor  yet  quite  a  savage 
with  a  tomahawk.  Thank  you,  but  I  don't  care  for 
any  succotash." 

"  Better  take  some,  Upperton.  It  is  positively 
delicious,"  said  Mr.  Dapper,  after  swallowing  a  spoon- 
ful. 

Lord  Upperton  poked  the  mixture  with  his  spoon 
and  then  tasted  it. 

"  It  is  n't  so  very  nasty,"  he  said,  and  took  a  second 
spoonful.  "  By  Jove,  it  is  n't  bad  at  all.  Bless  me, 
the  more  I  eat  the  better  I  like  it." 

His  plate  was  quickly  cleaned. 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Xew\Tlle,  but  the  succotash  is 
so  superb  that  I  dare  \dolate  good  manners,  which  I 
am  siu*e  you  will  overlook,  and  pass  my  plate  for 
more." 

"  You  see,  my  lord,  what  you  have  gained  by  trying 
it.  If  you  had  not  tasted  it,  you  woidd  have  gone 
back  to  England  and  told  the  nabobs  that  the  people 
in  the  Colonies  eat  just  such  nasty  things  as  the 
sheejMnen  feed  to  their  flocks ;  but  now  you  can  tor- 
ment them  by  describing  the  dainty  delicacies  of  the 
Colonies." 

"  By  Jove  I  That 's  a  capital  idea.  Dapper.  It 
will  make  the  Macaronies  mad  as  March  hares. 

"•  Please  fill  your  glasses,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
and  we  will  drink  the  health  of  our  most  gracious 
sovereign,"^  said  Mr.  Xewville. 

^  Georg-e  III.  was  grandson  of  George  II.,  and  son  of  Frederick, 
Prince  of  Wales,  whose  death  made  his  son  heir  to  the  throne.  The 
niotlier  of  George  III.  liad  plans  of  her  own.  and  was  aided  by  the 
Earl  of  Ijiite.  There  were  jwlitical  parties  in  ehnrch  and  state ; 
scheming  bishops  and  intriguing  politicians,  each  striving  for  his  own 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.        159 

The  glasses  were  filled,  and  the  health  of  the  king 
drunk. 

"Our  king  is  a  right  royal  sovereign,"  said  Mr. 
Newville. 

"  Yes,  royal,  but  stupid  now  and  then,"  Mr.  Dap- 
per responded,  to  the  amazement  of  the  company, 
and  especially  Mrs.  Newville.  "The  fact  is,  my  dear 
madam,  our  king,  unfortunately,  has  the  reputation  of 
being  the  dullest  sovereign  in  Europe.  Perhaps  you 
know  there  was  not  much  of  him  to  begin  with,  as  he 
was  only  a  little  pinch  of  a  baby  when  he  was  bom, 
so  puny  and  weak  the  nurses  said  he  woiddn't  stay 
here  long.  He  sat  in  their  laps,  and  was  coddled  till 
six  years  old,  when  he  was  put  under  that  scheming, 
narrow-minded  bigot.  Reverend  Doctor  Ayscough. 
And  what  do  you  suppose  the  reverend  donkey  set  him 
to  doing  ?  Why,  learning  hymns,  written  by  another 
reverend  gentleman.  Doctor  Philip  Doddridge.  Very 
good  religious  hjonns,  no  doubt,  but  not  quite  so 
attractive  as  Mother  Goose  would  have  been  to  the 
little  fellow.  After  learning  a  few  hynnis  and  a  few 
words  in  Latin,  he  was  set  to  making  verses  in  that 
language,  when  he  could  not  read  a  story  book  with- 
out spelling  half  the  words." 

"  How  preposterous  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Milford. 

"  Somewhat  absurd,  I  will  admit,"  said  Mr.  Dapper, 

bowing.     "  One  reverend  doctor  was  not  sufficient," 

he  continued,   "  to    look  after  the  education   of   the 

prince,  and  so  my  Lord  Bishop  Hayter  of  Norwich 

advancement,  or  the  advancement  of  his  party.  George  III.  dnring 
his  early  years  had  frequent  changes  of  governors  and  tutors,  several 
of  -whom  were  intense  Jacobites,  holding  reactionary  opinions.  Being 
dull  of  intellect,  his  education  tended  to  make  him  a  bigot. 


160       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

was  associated  with  Doctor  Ayscough.  Then  the  Old 
Harry  was  let  loose.  My  Lord  Bishop  of  Norwich 
was  scheming  to  be  made  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
and  Ayscough  wanted  to  become  Bishop  of  Bristol. 
Both  were  striving  to  rival  little  Jack  Horner  in  put- 
ting their  thumbs  into  the  pie." 

The  ladies  were  amused  —  excepting  Mrs.  NewviUe, 
who  laid  down  her  knife  and  fork,  folded  her  hands, 
and  looked  earnestly  at  Mr.  Dapper. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  there  is  scheming  among 
the  reverend  prelates  of  our  most  holy  church  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Why,  madam,  human  nature  is  pretty  much  the 
same  in  the  church  as  out  of  it,  and  there  is  quite  as 
much  intrigue  among  the  prelates  of  the  church  as 
among  the  politicians  at  court.  His  majesty,  talking 
about  his  early  years  not  long  since,  said  there  was 
nothing  but  disagreement  and  intrigue  among  those 
who  had  charge  of  him  during  his  early  years.  Mr. 
Scott,  his  tutor,  did  what  he  could  for  the  little  fellow, 
but  it  wasn't  much.  His  father,  Fred,  Prince  of 
Wales,  delighted  in  private  theatricals.  He  had  sev- 
eral plays  performed  at  Leicester  House  by  children, 
employing  Jimmy  Quin  ^  to  teach  them  their  parts. 
Now,  my  dear  madam,  you  mil  see  that  with  three 
bishops  disputing  as  to  how  the  boy  should  be  in- 
structed in  theology;  whether  politically  he  should 
be  a  Jacobite  or  Whig  ;  when  each  was  trying  to  get 
the  biggest  piece  of  pie  and  the  most  plums,  —  the 

^  The  celebrated  actor.  James  Quin,  was  emploj'ed  by  the  Prince 
of  Wales  to  direct  the  plays  performed  iu  Leicester  House  by  the  chil- 
dren of  the  nobility. 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       161 


boy,  the  while,  muddling  his  brains  in  trying  to  make 
Latin  verses  and  learning  tragedies,  there  was  n't  much 
chance  for  Master  Scott  to  get  him  on  in  other  things, 
especially  when  my  lord  the  Bishop  of  Norwich  was  in- 
triguing to  get  the  master  kicked  downstairs,  that  he 
might  put  one  of  his  favorites  in  the  position  of  tutor 
to  the  prince." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Dapper !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  NewviUe. 

"  Then  the  prince  had  a  change  of  governors  about 
as  often  as  the  moon  fulled,"  said  Mr.  Dapper. 
"  Each,  of  course,  had  some  directions  to  give  in  regard 
to  his  education.  When  Lord  Harcourt  was  governor 
his  chief  concern  was  to  have  the  prince  turn  out  his 
toes  when  walking." 

The  ladies  laughed  at 
Mr.  Dapper's  droll  way 
of  narrating  the  manner 
of  the  king's  education. 

"I  do  not  wonder  you 
smile,  ladies  ;  it  is  enough 
to  make  a  horse  laugh," 
he  said.  "  Perhaps  you 
would  hke  to  know  how 
the  prince  was  put 
through  his  paces  from 
the  time  he  opened  his 
eyes  in  the  morning  till 
he  was  tucked  in  bed  at  '^'°^^"  '"• 

night.  Lord  North  at  one  time  was  governor  to  the 
prince ;  he  gave  me  the  programme  of  the  daily 
routine.  The  boy  was  to  be  out  of  bed'  at  seven 
o'clock,  eat  breakfast  and  be  ready  for  Mr.  Scott  from 


162       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

eight  o'clock  to  nine,  or  till  the  Reverend  Doctor  John 
Thomas  came,  who  had  him  in  charge  till  eleven,  when 
he  was  to  be  turned  over  to  Mr.  Fung,  for  what  purpose 
Lord  North  did  not  know.  At  noon,  Mr.  Ruperti 
had  him  for  half  an  hour.  From  half  past  twelve  till 
three  the  prince  could  play  ;  that  is,  he  could  walk 
thi'ough  the  gToimds  around  Leicester  House,  trussed 
up  in  fine  clothes  like  a  turkey  for  the  spit,  but  he 
could  n't  kick  up  his  heels  or  turn  somersaults  on  the 
grass ;  he  must  be  a  nice  little  gentleman  in  lace  and 
ruffles.  At  three  o'clock  he  had  dinner.  At  half 
past  four  the  dancing-master,  Mr.  Deneyer,  taught  him 
the  minuet.  At  five  o'clock  he  had  another  half  hour 
with  Mr.  Fmig.  From  haK  past  six  to  eight  Mr. 
Scott  put  him  through  his  curriculum.  At  eight 
o'clock  he  had  supper,  but  must  be  in  bed  at  ten.  On 
Sunday  from  half  past  nine  till  eleven  Reverend 
Doctor  Ayscough  lectured  him  on  religion.  To  state 
it  plainly,  our  royal  sovereign's  real  instructors  were 
the  servants  and  chambermaids  of  Leicester  House. 
They  told  him  nursery  tales  about  hobgoblins,  giant- 
killers,  and  witches.  Doctor  Ayscough  and  the  bishop 
gave  him  lectures  on  theology.  The  Jacobite  bishop 
exalted  the  prerogatives  of  princes  and  kings.  Lord 
Waldegrave  told  me  that,  when  he  was  appointed  gov- 
ernor to  Prince  George,  he  found  him  to  be  a  good, 
narrow-minded  little  bigot,  with  his  head  full  of  niu*- 
sery  tales  and  not  nnieh  else." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Dapper ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Newville, 
laying  down  lier  knife  and  fork  again,  and  holding 
up  her  hands. 

"  I  see  that  vou  are  astonished,  madam.     Now  I 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       163 

would  not  for  the  world  say  anything  disrespectful  of 
our  gracious  sovereign  ;  he  is  not  to  be  blamed  for 
the  errors  of  those  who  had  charge  of  him  during  his 
minority,  —  he  is  to  be  commiserated  rather ;  but  you 
will  observe  that  it  was  not  a  course  of  education 
calcidated  to  enlighten  a  dull  mtellect.  That  he  is 
good  at  heart  every  one  knows,  but  his  ministers  also 
know  that  he  is  narrow-minded  and  obstinate." 

"  We  must  not  forget  that  our  most  gracious 
majesty.  King  George,  is  one  of  the  Lord's  chosen 
instruments  to  carry  out  the  plan  of  the  divine 
mind,"  said  the  rector. 

"  Oh,  certainly,  my  dear  sir ;  just  as  much  of  an 
instnunent  as  ever  Samson  was,  flourishing  the  jaw- 
bone of  an  ass,  smiting  the  Philistines  hip  and 
thigh,"  Mr.  Dapper  replied. 

The  ladies  smiled,  but  the  rector  did  not  altogether 
relish  the  reply. 

"  I  never  have  quite  understood  how  Earl  Bute  ob- 
tained his  ascendency  with  the  king,"  said  Mr.  Adams. 

"  It  was  through  his  influence  with  the  mother  of 
the  king,"  Mr.  Dapper  replied.  "  He  had  a  great  deal 
to  say  about  the  king's  education.  It  was  Bute  who 
mduced  George  II.  to  appoint  Andrew  Stone  to  have 
charge  of  the  young  prince.  Then  the  fat  was  in 
the  fire.  The  Bishop  of  Norwich  accused  Stone  of 
being  a  Jacobite,  and  the  quarrel  became  hot  —  so 
sharp  that  the  bishop  entered  the  schoolroom  to  have 
it  out  with  Master  Stone.  Now  I  suppose,  my  dear 
rector,  you  woidd  have  staked  your  money  on  the 
bishop,  on  the  theory  that  the  church  militant  shoidd 
also  be  the  church  triumphant." 


164       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Possibly,  if  I  were  in  the  habit  of  laying  wagers," 
the  rector  replied. 

"  I  certainly  should  have  done  so,  reverend  sir,  but 
I  should  have  lost  my  money,"  continued  Mr.  Dapper ; 
"  for  Mr.  Stone  was  plucky,  used  his  fists  beautifully, 
and  gave  it  to  my  lord  the  bishop  right  between  the 
eyes.  The  bishop  was  quite  gamey,  though,  and  aimed 
a  blow  at  Stone's  nose,  but  finally  got  shoved  out  of 
the  room,  greatly  to  his  mortification.  He  could  n't 
let  the  matter  drop,  and  so  accused  Stone  of  being 
drunk.  The  matter  finally  got  into  Parliament  where 
there  was  quite  a  row  about  it.  Such  were  the  aus- 
pices under  which  our  good  sovereign  was  educated  to 
administer  the  affairs  of  the  realm.  His  mother 
wanted  to  make  him  pious.  She  would  not  allow  him 
to  associate  with  other  boys  because  they  would  cor- 
rupt his  morals.  Lord  Bute  advised  the  princess 
dowager  to  keep  the  prince  tied  to  her  apron  strings, 
and  succeeded." 

"  Lord  Bute,"  Mr.  Adams  responded,  "  is  very  much 
disliked  in  the  Colonies.  When  he  was  at  the  head 
of  the  ministry,  he  was  hung  in  effigy  on  the  Liberty 
Tree." 

"  So  he  was  in  London,"  Mr.  Dapper  replied. 
"  Your  detestation  of  him  cannot  be  greater  than  it  is 
in  England.  Xo  one  can  quite  understand  how  John 
Stuart  made  his  way  up  to  power.  He  was  a  poor 
Scotsman  from  tlie  Fi'ith  of  Clyde.  He  went  to  school 
at  Eton  and  also  at  Cambridge,  then  came  to  London, 
hired  a  piece  of  land  out  a  little  way  from  the  city, 
and  raised  peppermint,  camomile,  and  other  simples 
for  medicine.      He  had  a  love  for  private  theatricals, 


MRS.  NEWVJLLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       165 

had  shapely  legs  and  liked  to  show  them.  One  even- 
ing the  Prince  of  Wales  saw  his  legs,  and,  taking  a 
fancy  to  the  owner,  told  him  to  make  himself  at  home 
in  Leicester  House.  That  was  enough  for  John 
Stuart.  Having  got  a  foothold,  he  made  himself  use- 
ful to  Fred,  and  especially  to  the  princess  dowager. 
George  II.  was  getting  on  in  years  and  irritable.  The 
old  king  took  it  upon  himself  to  pick  out  a  wife  for 
the  prince,  selecting  the  daughter  of  Charles,  Duke  of 
Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel ;  but  the  prince  said  he 
wasn't  going  to  be  Wolfenbuttled  by  his  grandsire. 
Just  what  he  meant  by  it  no  one  knows,  as  the  word  is 
not  to  be  found  in  Doctor  Johnson's  big  dictionary." 

"  Shall  I  help  you  to  a  bit  of  canvasback,  my 
lord  ?  "  Mrs.  Newville  asked,  interrupting  the  narra- 
tive. 

"  Canvasback !  What  may  it  be  ?  Really,  you 
have  most  astonishing  things  to  eat  over  here,"  Lord 
Upperton  replied. 

Mrs.  Newville  explained  that  it  was  a  duck,  and 
that  it  was  regarded  as  a  delicacy. 

"  I  never  ate  anything  so  delicious,"  said  Upper- 
ton. 

Mr.  Dapper  also  praised  it. 

"  Was  the  marriage  of  our  king  and  queen  a  love- 
match?"  Miss  Chanson  inquired. 

"  Well,  hardly,  at  the  beginning,"  said  Mr.  Dapper. 
"  When  the  prince  was  eighteen,  he  fell  in  love  with 
Lady  Sarah  Lennox,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond. She  was  seventeen,  beautiful,  and  attractive. 
She  knew  how  to  display  her  charms  to  the  best 
advantage,  by  going  out  with  the  haymakers  on  fine 


166       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

summer  mornings  to  wander  in  the  meadows  among 
the  daisies,  wearing  a  fancy  costume.  No  wonder  the 
prince,  looking  from  the  windows  of  Holland  House, 
thought  it  a  delightfid  exhibition  of  Arcadian  simpli- 
city and  made  haste  to  chat  with  her.  But  love-mak- 
ing between  the  future  king  and  a  subject  was  not  in 
accordance  with  the  princess  dowager's  ideas,  and  so 
Earl  Bute  found  it  convenient  to  appear  upon  the 
scene,  —  a  gentle  hint  that  there  was  to  be  no  more 
love-making.  Their  flirtations  would  make  a  long 
story  though,  for  Lord  Newbottle  was  in  love  with 
Lady  Sarah  and  jealous  of  the  prince,  which  made  it 
all  the  more  interesting.  Bute  and  the  princess  dow- 
ager put  their  heads  together,  and  sent  Colonel  Gra- 
ham on  a  prospecting  tour  among  the  German  prin- 
cipalities. He  sent  back  word  that  the  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz  would  make  a  good 
wife  for  his  royal  higlmess,  and  he  judged  well,  for  I 
am  sure  you  aU  love  our  Sophia  Charlotte." 

"  Most  certainly,  and  we  would  emidate  her  vir- 
tues," said  Mrs.  Adams. 

Mr.  New\nlle  proposed  the  health  of  the  queen. 

Their  glasses  drained,  ]Mr.  Dapper  went  on :  — 

"  Lord  Harcourt  was  sent  as  ambassador  to  nego- 
tiate a  marriage,  not  with  Sophia  Charlotte,  but  with 
her  brother,  the  duke. 

"  AVas  not  our  queen  considted  in  regard  to  the 
matter?"  Ruth  asked. 

'•  Xot  at  all.  She  knew  very  little  about  the  world ; 
never  had  l^een  a  dozen  miles  from  home,  never 
even  had  sat  at  the  duke's  table.  She  was  a  simple- 
minded  little  girl  who  gave  the  chickens  their  dough 


QUEEX    SOPHIA   CHARLOTTE 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       167 

and  gathered  nosegays  from  her  flower-garden.  You 
can  imagine,  ladies,  that  she  hardly  knew  what  to  make 
of  it  when  told  that  an  ambassador  from  England  had 
arrived  and  wanted  to  see  her.  The  duke  told  her  to 
put  on  her  best  gown,  mind  what  Harcourt  said,  and 
not  be  a  bab}'.  Suddenly  the  folding-doors  leading  to 
the  ducal  chamber  opened,  and  there  stood  the  ambas- 
sador. '  You  are  to  be  married  to  him  by  proxy,  and 
be  queen  of  England,'  said  the  duke,  which  so  sur- 
prised the  poor  girl  that  she  nearly  fainted.  The  cere- 
mony over,  Harcourt  presented  her  with  a  necklace  of 
diamonds.  You  see,  ladies,  it  is  almost  the  story  of 
Cinderella  over  again !  " 

"  It  is  really  romantic,"  responded  Miss  Milford. 

"  I  would  not  be  married  to  one  whom  I  never  had 
seen,"  exclaimed  Ruth. 

"  A  princess.  Miss  Newville,  cannot  always  do  as 
she  would.  She  may  be  compelled  to  marry  against 
her  will,"  said  Lord  Upperton. 

"  I  would  not,"  Ruth  repHed. 

"  Not  if  the  countiy  required  it  ?  "  Lord  Upperton 
asked. 

"  No,  my  lord  ;  and  I  am  glad  I  am  not  a  princess." 

"  Bravely  spoken.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  let  us 
drink  to  the  maiden  who,  though  not  of  the  blood 
royal,  is  yet  a  princess,"  said  Mr.  Dapper. 

"  Hear  !  hear  !  "  exclaimed  the  admiral,  thumping 
the  table. 

The  company  gazed  admiringly  at  Ruth,  peerless  in 
her  beauty,  the  warm  blood  suffusing  her  cheeks. 

"  I  understand  that  our  queen  assumed  the  position 
of  royalty  with  much  grace,"  Mrs.  Adams  remarked. 


168       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  With  charming  simplicity,  madam,"  responded  Mr. 
Dapper.  "  She  landed  at  Harwich,  and  had  an  ova- 
tion all  the  way  to  London.  People  hurrahed,  bells 
rang,  and  cannon  thundered.  The  poor  girl  was  ter- 
ribly frightened.  The  thought  of  meeting  a  husband 
whom  she  had  never  seen  unstrung  her  nerves.  The 
Duchess  of  Hamilton  laughed  at  her,  but  it  was  a  hot 
shot  the  queen  let  fly  ;  she  said :  '  You  have  been  mar- 
ried twice  to  husbands  of  your  own  choosing,  but  poor 
me  must  marry  a  man  whom  I  never  have  seen.' " 

"  Bravo !  that  raked  the  quarter-deck,"  exclaimed 
the  admiral. 

"  How  did  the  king  receive  her  ?  "  Ruth  inquired. 

When  she  stepped  from  the  coach  she  knelt  at  his 
feet ;  he  gave  her  a  kiss,  and  led  her  into  the  palace." 

"  Very  gallant  on  the  part  of  the  king ;  fitting  and 
humble  the  action  of  the  queen,"  said  the  rector. 

"  I  would  not  have  got  down  on  my  knees  to  him," 
said  Ruth. 

"  May  I  ask  why  Miss  Newville  would  not  have 
knelt  to  her  future  husband  and  sovereign,  had  she 
been  Princess  Sophia  ?  "  the  rector  asked. 

"  Because  it  was  an  acknowledgment  at  the  outset 
that  she  was  not  his  equal.  She  abased  herself  by 
taking  an  inferior  position.  In  the  days  of  chivalry, 
men  knelt  to  women.  The  princess  did  not  leave  her 
happy  home  to  be  a  sul)ject  of  King  George ;  but  to 
be  his  wife  to  stand  by  his  side,  and  not  crouch  at  his 
feet." 

"  Hurrah  I  That 's  a  whole  broadside.  She's  sweep- 
ing  your  quarter-deck,''  shouted  the  admiral. 

The  rector  iirew  red  in  the  face. 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       169 

"  It  is  recorded  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  Miss  New- 
ville,  that  wives  must  be  obedient  to  their  husbands," 
he  repHed. 

"  Does  the  Bible  say  a  wife  must  kneel  at  her  hus- 
band's feet  ?  "  she  askedo 

"  Perhaps  not  in  so  many  words,  but  she  is  com- 
manded to  obey.  Our  holy  church  teaches  the  doc- 
trine. When  the  princess  knelt  at  the  feet  of  his 
majesty,  it  signified  she  would  obey  him.  Perhaps  it 
is  my  duty.  Miss  Newville,  to  say  that  your  sentiments 
would  be  regarded  as  heretical  by  the  authorities  of  the 
church." 

"  Hold  on,  rector,"  said  Mr.  Adams.  "  Don't  set 
the  canons  of  the  church  to  thundering." 

"  It  is  the  gossip  at  court,"  said  Mr.  Dapper,  "  that 
the  king  wanted  to  retire  soon  after  simdown,  but  the 
queen  said  she  was  n't  going  to  bed  with  the  hens.  It 
is  said  he  told  her  she  must  wear  a  particular  dress, 
but  she  informed  him  he  could  dress  as  he  pleased, 
and  she  should  do  the  same." 

"  You  will  have  to  go  to  court,  rector,  and  lecture 
the  queen  on  heresy,"   said  Mr.  Adams. 

The  company  laughed,  and  Ruth's  eyes  sparkled 
over  the  rector's  discomfiture. 

The  meats  had  been  removed  and  Pompey  was  ser- 
ving the  pastry  and  comfits. 

"  What  delicious  cheese  you  have.  It  is  as  tooth- 
some as  the  finest  Cheshire,"  said  Lord  Upperton. 

"  We  think  it  of  excellent  flavor,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  relish  it  aU  the  more  when  I  inform  you,  my 
lord,  that  it  was  made  by  a  girl  not  older  than  my- 
self," replied  Ruth. 


170        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"Indeed!  is  it  possible?  How  very  clever  she 
must  be." 

"  She  is  a  New  Hampshire  lady." 

"  Are  dairymaids  ladies  ?  " 

"  Indeed  they  are,  my  lord.  The  young  lady  who 
made  the  cheese  you  are  eating,  I  dare  say,  would 
adorn  the  court  of  our  queen,"  responded  Mr.  Adams. 

"  Bless  me  !  oysters,  cranberries,  succotash,  canvas- 
back  ducks,  wild  turkeys,  pumpkm  pie,  dairymaids 
ladies,  wives  the  equals  of  their  husbands !  Rector, 
will  there  be  anything  beyond  these  in  the  New  Jeru- 
salem? "  exclaimed  Lord  Upperton. 

Dinner  over,  the  ladies  passed  into  the  parlor  while 
the  gentlemen  smoked  their  pipes  and  finished  their 
wine. 

"  I  sujjpose,  my  lord,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  "  you  have 
not  been  here  sufficiently  long  to  form  an  opinion  in 
regard  to  the  Colonies." 

"  Everything  is  so  new  and  strange,"  Lord  Upper- 
ton  replied,  "  I  hardly  know  what  to  make  of  it.  I 
had  an  idea  that  I  shoidd  find  your  people  quite  rude 
and  uncultivated.  I  understand  you  haven't  any 
theatre  or  anything  of  that  sort ;  but,  really,  your 
ladies  charm  me  by  their  conversation.  Mrs.  Adams 
informs  me  she  has  studied  Latin  and  Greek." 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  my  wife  can  read  Cicero  and 
Homer  in  the  originals,"  Mr.  Adams  rephed. 

"  You  astonish  me,"  his  lordship  exclaimed. 

"  We  are  somewhat  primitive,  but  the  Colonies  in 
time  will  make  amends  for  wliatever  they  may  be  lack- 
ing now,"  Mr.  Adams  responded,  sipping  his  wine. 
"  llie  people  w  ho  came  to  tlii.s  Western  world  did  so 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       Ill 

mainly  for  conscience  sake,  and  the  time  will  come 
when  this  country  will  be  the  seat  of  empire.  Society 
here  is  established  on  enduring  foundations.  One 
hundred  years  hence  the  chances  are  the  people  in  the 
Colonies  will  outnumber  those  of  England.  We  are 
loyal  to  the  king,  but  we  are  a  liberty-loving  people 
and  jealous  of  our  rights.  In  time  we  shall  be  so 
strong  that  the  united  force  of  Europe  will  not  be 
able  to  subdue  us."  ^ 

"  You  have  a  great  extent  of  coimtry,  but  as  a  peo- 
ple you  are  widely  scattered.  You  have  only  a  little 
fringe  of  settlements  along  the  seacoast.  It  will  be 
an  easy  matter  to  divide  you.  England  is  rich,  and 
has  a  great  navy ;  she  controls  the  sea.  Her  armies 
have  been  victors  on  many  fields;  she  has  wrested 
Canada  from  France,"  said  his  lordship. 

"  With  the  aid  of  the  Colonies,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Adams. 

"  Perhaps  we  had  better  give  politics  the  go-by  and 
join  the  ladies,"  said  his  lordship,  rising  and  moving 
towards  the  parlor. 

Pompey  brought  in  the  tea-urn,  cups  and  saucers, 
sugar  and  cream. 

"  Shall  I  pass  you  a  cup.  Miss  Newville  ?  "  Lord 
Upperton  asked. 

"  Thank  you,  my  lord,  but  I  do  not  drink  tea." 

"  Ha,  ha !  Miss  NewviUe,  so  you  have  joined  the 
other  conspirators  to  outwit  Lord  North !  " 

"  No,  your  lordship,  I  have  not  joined  them,  but  I 
must  say  I  admire  their  resolution  in  giving  up  a  lux- 
ury to  maintain  a  great  principle." 

^  The  paragraph  is  in  substance  the  prophecy  of   John  Adams, 
written  to  Nathan  Webb,  a  school-teacher  in  Worcester,  in  1755. 


172       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  As  for  myself,"  said  Mr.  Dapper,  "  I  rather  like 
the  spirit  of  the  Puritan  mothers  and  daughters  here 
in  the  Colonies ;  they  are  worthy  descendants  of  the 
men  who  had  it  out  with  Charles  I.  It  is  all  non- 
sense, this  plea  of  Lord  North,  that  the  people  in  the 
Colonies  ought  to  pay  a  portion  of  the  debt  incurred 
by  England  in  the  late  war  with  France ;  it  is  the  ex- 
travagance and  corruption  of  Parliament  and  of  those 
in  power  that  grinds  us,  —  the  giving  of  grants, 
pensions,  and  gratuities  to  favorites,  parasites,  and 
hangers-on.  During  Bute's  and  Grenville's  admin- 
isti'ations  the  public  money  was  sown  broadcast.  If 
votes  were  wanted,  they  were  purchased.  It  was  not 
unusual  for  a  member  of  the  Commons  to  find  four 
hundred  pounds  in  his  napkin  at  dinner,  or  in  a  biUet- 
doux  left  by  the  postman.  Of  course  he  understood 
the  meaning  of  it.  The  ministers  helped  themselves 
to  sugar-plums  worth  five  thousand  pounds.  When 
the  Duke  of  Grafton  was  at  the  head  of  the  ministry, 
that  parasite,  Tom  Bradshaw,  who  had  done  some 
nasty  work  for  the  Premier,  received  an  annuity  of 
fifteen  hvmdred  pounds  and  a  suite  of  thirty  rooms  in 
Hampton  Palace.  He  is  there  now,  and  has  had  the 
suite  increased  to  seventy  apartments.  Not  long  ago 
the  ministry  put  out  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  to 
carry  a  measure  through  the  Commons." 

"  You  astonish  me  !  Do  you  mean  to  intimate 
that  our  king  has  corrupt  men  around  him  ?  "  Mrs. 
Newville  inquired. 

"  ]My  dear  madam,  the  king  is  hardly  responsi- 
ble for  this  state  of  things.  It  is  part  of  the  politi- 
cal system.     l*olitics  is  a  game.     Men  can  cheat  in 


MRS.  NEWVILLE'S  DINNER-PARTY.       173 

government  as  well  as  in  anything  else,  and  there 
are  quite  as  many  cheats  in  and  around  St.  James's 
as  at  Almack's  or  any  of  the  other  gambling  resorts. 
Other  things  are  done  in  and  around  Westminster, 
by  those  whom  you  are  accustomed  to  revere,  which 
would  astonish  you  coidd  I  but  speak  of  them,"  said 
Mr.  Dapper. 

The  evening  being  beautiful,  the  air  genial,  the 
company  strolled  in  the  garden,  and  ate  the  ripening 
plums  and  pears.  Lord  Upperton,  finding  pleasure 
in  the  society  of  Miss  Newville,  asked  what  recrea- 
tion the  young  people  in  the  Colonies  enjoyed.  She 
told  of  the  launching  of  the  ship  Berinthia  Brandon, 
the  pung-ride  and  dance  at  the  Greyhound  Tavern, 
the  quiltings,  huskings,  and  tea-parties. 

"  I  hope,  Miss  Newville,  this  vnU  not  be  the  last 
time  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  I  shall 
not  soon  forget  the  succotash  and  cranberries,  and 
shall  improve  an  early  opportunity  to  pay  my  re- 
spects to  you,"  he  said,  as  he  bade  her  good-evening. 

"  By  Jove,  Dapper,  she  's  as  fine  a  piece  of  chintz 
as  can  be  picked  up  at  St.  James's  or  anywhere  else," 
he  said,  as  they  returned  to  the  Admiral  Vernon. 


XI. 

SOCIETY   LIFE   IN   LONDON. 

On  a  pleasant  afternoon  Lord  Upperton  was  once 
more  ushered  into  the  Newville  mansion.  Mrs.  New- 
ville  being  absent,  he  was  graciously  received  by  Ruth. 

"  I  had  such  a  dehghtful  time  in  your  hospitable 
home,  Miss  Newville,  the  other  evening,  that  I  could 
no  longer  refrain  from  paying  my  respects." 

"  It  is  certainly  very  kind  of  you,  my  lord." 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  delighted  I  was  when  you 
told  me  about  your  recreations.  How  charming  it 
must  be  to  go  riding  in  a  puug,  mth  a  lot  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen.  I  was  wondering  if  I  coidd  not  get 
up  a  pung-ride." 

"  We  only  do  that  in  winter,  when  snow  is  on  the 
ground,  my  lord,"  Ruth  replied,  hardly  able  to  re- 
press a  smile. 

"  Oh,  dear  me  !  how  stupid  I  am  !  Of  course 
not,"  and  his  lordship  laughed  heartUy  at  his  blunder. 

"  Do  you  not  have  snow  in  London,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sometimes  ;  but  then  we  have  n't  any  pimgs. 
I  don't  know  what  they  are.  Maybe  they  are  a  sort 
of  hackney  or  chariot  ?  " 

"  We  have  no  hackney  coaches  here,  as  yet,  my 
lord,  but  Mr.  Hancock  and  the  governor  and  a  few 
of  our  citizens  have  coaches.     A  puug  is  not  at  all 


SOCIETY  LIFE  IN  LONDON.  175 

like  a  coach.  It  is,  instead,  a  sort  of  box  on  run- 
ners." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  how  interesting !  " 

"  May  I  ask,  my  lord,  what  recreations  you  have 
in  London?" 

"  We  have  quite  a  variety,  I  assure  you.  Miss 
Newville.  We  have  card  parties,  where  we  play 
high  or  low,  just  as  we  feel.  We  have  assemblies, 
where  we  tittle-tattle  and  gossip.  We  gentlemen 
lay  bets  on  the  winning  horse  at  the  next  Derby. 
We  go  to  Drury  Lane  or  Covent  Garden,  and  clap 
our  hands  at  the  acting  of  Davy  Garrick  or  Jinuny 
Quin.  At  the  opera  we  go  wild  when  Mademoiselle 
Truffi  soars  like  a  nightingale  up  to  high  C.  We 
dance  at  balls,  array  ourselves  as  harlequins  and 
imps  at  masquerades,  and  see  who  can  carry  off  the 
most  bottles  of  port  or  sherry  at  dinner,"  said  his 
lordship,  again  laughing. 

"  Are  you  not  jesting,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  Miss  Newville ;  I  am  telling  you  sober 
truth.  It  is  not  exaggeration  at  all.  For  instance, 
the  masquerade  which  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Riclunond  gave  on  the  king's  last  birthday  was  so 
gay  that  I  can  hardly  hope  to  picture  it.  The 
duke's  villa  is  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames.  The 
willows,  elms,  and  oaks  in  the  park  were  hung  with 
lanterns,  the  house  was  all  ablaze  —  lights  in  every 
room.  Dukes,  duchesses,  earls,  barons,  lords,  and 
ladies  —  more  than  six  hundred  —  assembled  in  mas- 
querade dress.  The  Duchess  of  Hamilton  and  Argyle 
was  hostess.  She  appeared  as  Night,  with  a  black 
trailing  robe  illuminated  with  silver   stars,  while  her 


176        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

father  was  dressed  as  a  footman,  with  the  portrait  of 
his  other  daughter  dangling  from  a  ribbon  tied  to  a 
button  of  his  jacket." 

"  Was  it  not  rather  out  of  character  for  a  man  old 
enough  to  be  grave  and  dignified  to  take  such  a  part?" 
Miss  Newville  asked. 

"  Perhaps  so,  but  then  we  are  expected  to  do  absurd 
things  in  masquerade.  Her  grace  the  Duchess  of 
Richmond,  for  instance,  appeared  as  the  Sultana  of 
Persia,  in  a  costume  purchased  in  the  bazaar  of  Bag- 
dad. The  Duchess  of  Grafton  displayed  her  charms 
as  Cleopatra.  Now  when  we  remember  that  Egypt 
and  the  Orient  have  a  chmate  in  which  a  person  can 
get  along  without  any  great  amount  of  clothing,  it 
really  does  seem  somewhat  absurd  for  a  lady,  in  a 
country  with  a  chmate  like  that  of  England,  to  attempt 
to  imitate  in  dress,  or  undress,  that  celebrated  queen 
of  the  East." 

Lord  Upperton  laughed  again.  "  Miss  Fitzroy," 
he  continued,  "  undertook  to  represent  the  Sultana 
of  Turkey.  If  I  remember  rightly,  she  appeared  in 
baggy  silk  trousers,  high-heeled  pink  shppers,  crimson 
jacket,  embroidered  with  gold,  and  a  white  turban. 
Her  bewitching  eyes  jDceped  through  two  holes  in  a 
muslin  yashmak  spangled  with  silver  stars.  Among 
the  gentlemen  I  recall  Lord  Augustus  Hervey,  who 
disguised  himself  so  completely  as  a  jester  that  no  one 
could  make  out  who  he  was.  He  said  saucy  things  as 
a  court  fool.  He  even  giiyed  his  own  wife,  and  she 
never  mistrusted  she  was  flirting  with  her  own  hus- 
band, l)ut  then,  as  she  was  ready  to  flirt  with  anybody, 
it  made  no  difference." 


SOCIETY  LIFE  IN  LONDON.  Ill 

Miss  Newville  hardly  knew  what  reply  to  make 
as  his  lordship  laughed  again,  and  so  remained 
silent. 

"  May  I  ask  what  character  Lord  Upperton  as- 
sumed," she  asked. 

"  Oh,  certainly.  I  appeared  as  a  yomig  devil,  with 
hoofs,  horns,  and  a  forked  tail.  His  satanic  majesty, 
you  know,  is  supposed  to  whisper  things  in  people's 
ears,  and  you  may  be  sure  I  acted  out  the  character  I 
assumed.  I  did  it  so  well  that  Lady  Lucy  Hastings 
said  I  was  a  perfect  unp  of  darkness." 

"  Have  you  any  other  recreations  ?  "  Miss  Newville 
inquired. 

"  Oh,  yes,  a  great  many.  One  diversion  I  am  sure 
woidd  charm  you,  —  the  club  at  Ahnack's,  in  which  the 
ladies  nominate  gentlemen  to  membership  and  gentle- 
men the  ladies.  Only  a  few  days  before  leaving  Lon- 
don I  attended  a  grand  masquerade  ball  at  Almack's, 
where  my  Lady  Archer  appeared  as  a  boy  wearing 
a  postman's  blue  coat.  Lord  Edgecombe  assumed  the 
character  of  an  old  washerwoman.  Sir  Watkins 
Wynne  rode  into  the  hall  on  a  goat,  assuming  the 
character  of  holy  Saint  David.  The  goat,  more  accus- 
tomed to  browse  in  the  pastures  than  take  part  in  such 
high  jinks,  frightened  by  the  blare  of  trumpets,  the 
scraping  of  fiddles,  and  the  whisking  of  the  ladies' 
skirts  as  they  went  round  in  the  dance,  capered  like 
mad,  butted  my  Lady  Winchester  so  that  she  fell  flat 
upon  the  floor,  upset  holy  Saint  David,  and  kept  the 
room  in  an  uproar  until  a  waiter  seized  the  animal  by 
the  horns  and  another  by  the  tail  and  led  him  from 
the  haU." 


178       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Lord  Upperton  roared  with  laughter,  and  Miss 
Newville  could  but  join  him  in  the  merriment. 

"  It  was  a  picturesque  scene,  I  assure  you,  with 
peddlers,  haymakers,  shepherdesses,  gypsies,  chimney- 
sweeps, and  nymphs,"  his  lordship  said. 

"  May  I  ask,  my  lord,  what  a  masquerade  is  sup- 
posed to  represent?"  Miss  Newville  inquired. 

"  Well,  really  now,  I  never  thought  of  it.  I  sup- 
pose it  means  something,  hut  just  what,  upon  my  soul, 
I  cannot  tell  you,  except  to  have  a  jolly  good  time  and 
appear  to  be  what  we  are  not." 

"Are  such  masquerade  balls  usually  attended  by 
noble  lords  and  ladies  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  They  are  ahnost  the  exclusive  patrons. 
I  attended  one  a  little  while  ago  at  Carlisle  House. 
It  was  intended  the  king  and  queen  shoidd  be  patrons. 
Tickets  were  sent  to  his  most  gracious  majesty,  and, 
of  course,  there  was  a  great  crush.  The  king  and 
queen  returned  the  tickets,  but  everybody  else  was 
there.  I  remember  that  the  Duke  of  Cleveland 
appeared  as  Henry  YIII. ;  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  as 
a  fine  old  English  gentleman ;  the  Duchess  of  Buc- 
cleugh  as  the  Witch  of  Endor ;  Lady  Edgecombe  as 
a  imn ;  the  Duchess  of  Bolton  as  the  goddess  Diana ; 
Lady  Stanhope  as  Melopomene ;  the  Countess  of 
A^aldegTave  as  Jane  Shore  ;  Lord  Galway's  daughter, 
jSIrs.  Monckton,  as  an  Indian  princess,  in  a  golden 
robe,  embroidered  with  diamonds,  opals,  and  pearls 
worth  thirty  thousand  pounds.  One  of  the  gentlemen 
came  as  a  Swiss  ballad-singer  with  a  hurdy-gurdy, 
leading  a  tame  bear  with  a  muzzle  on  his  nose.  He 
had  been  stopped  by  the  gate-keeper,  because  he  had 


SOCIETY  LIFE  IN  LONDON.  179 

only  a  ticket  and  a  half  —  the  half  ticket  for  the 
bear;  but  it  being  a  she-bear  and  ladies  being  ad- 
mitted at  half  price,  the  hurdy-gurdy  man  won  the 
day.  Eveiybody  laughed  and  said  it  was  the  best 
joke  of  the  season. 

Lord  Uppei-ton  saw  a  troubled  look  upon  Miss 
NewviUe's  face,  as  if  she  had  heard  quite  enough  about 
masquerades. 

"The  recreations  of  court  life,  I  would  not  have 
you  think,  Miss  NewviUe,  are  masquerades  and  balls, 
and  nothing  else.  We  have  suppers  which  are  quite 
different  affairs,  where  we  do  not  try  to  be  what  we 
are  not.  After  the  theatres  are  out  we  go  to  the 
banquet  halls,  where  wine  and  wit  flow  together.  We 
gossip,  sing  songs,  and  flirt  with  the  Macaroni  ladies. 
The  opera  girls  sing  to  us  if  they  are  not  too  tipsy, 
and  we  have  gay  larks  till  the  wagons  begin  to  rum- 
ble aroimd  Covent  Garden  Market,  and  the  gi-een- 
grocers  are  displaying  their  onions  and  cabbages  for 
the  early  morning  sale." 

"  Who  are  the  Macaroni  ladies  ?  "  Miss  Newville 
asked. 

Lord  Upperton  laughed. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  inquire.  We  call 
them  Macaronies,  ladies  and  gentlemen  alike,  who 
have  traveled  on  the  Continent,  flirted  at  Versailles, 
in  Paris,  or  in  the  Palace  Barberini  in  Rome ;  who 
have  eaten  macaroni  in  Naples,  and  who  have  come 
home  with  all  the  follies,  to  say  nothing  of  some  of 
the  vices  of  the  nobility  of  other  countries,  in  addition 
to  what  they  had  before  they  started  on  their  travels. 
The   gentlemen  wear  their  hair   in   long  curls ;    the 


180       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ladies  patch  and  paint  their  faces.  If  they  have  n't 
a  pimple  or  a  wart  they  make  one.  They  wear 
gorgeous  dresses.  The  gentlemen  twaddle  canes  orna- 
mented with  dogs'  heads  or  eagles'  beaks,  with  gold 
tassels ;  carry  attar  of  rose  bottles  in  their  gloved 
hands,  and  squirt  rosewater  on  their  handkerchiefs. 
They  ogle  the  ladies  through  their  quizzing  glasses, 
wear  high-heeled  shppers,  and  diddle  along  on  their 
toes  like  a  French  dancing-master  teaching  his  pupils 
the  minuet.  The  ladies  simper  and  giggle  and  wink 
at  the  gentlemen  from  behind  their  fans,  and  leave 
you  to  imagine  something  they  don't  say." 

Again  Lord  Upperton  saw  a  troubled  look  upon 
Miss  Newville's  face. 

"  We  have  convivial  parties,"  he  continued.  "  If 
you  like  cards,  you  can  try  your  hand  at  Avinning  or 
losing.  We  play  for  fifty-pound  rouleaux.  There  is 
always  a  great  crowd,  and  not  infrequently  you  may 
see  ten  thousand  pounds  on  the  table.  Some  play 
small ;  others  plunge  in  regardless  of  consequences. 
My  yomig  friend,  Lord  Stravendale,  before  he  was  of 
age,  one  night  lost  eleven  thousand  pounds,  but  no- 
thing daunted  he  played  again,  and  as  luck  would 
have  it  got  it  all  back  at  one  hazard.  He  lamented 
he  had  not  made  the  stakes  larger,  and  said  if  he  had 
been  playing  deej)  he  might  have  made  a  million.  It 
was  really  very  clever  in  Stravendale." 

Again  his  lordship  laughed,  but  Miss  Newville  could 
not  see  anything  in  the  narrative  to  cause  her  to  smile. 

"There  is  Charley  Fox,"  Lord  Upperton  contin- 
ued, ''  who  goes  in  rather  strong.  He  makes  grand 
speeches   in   the  Commons ;    but  almost  always  gets 


SOCIETY  LIFE  IN  LONDON.  181 

fleeced  at  Almack's.  The  Jews,  who  are  usually  on 
hand  in  one  of  the  outside  rooms  with  their  shekels, 
waiting  to  lend  money,  charge  exorbitant  interest. 
Charley  calls  it  the  Jerusalem  Chamber.  Sometimes 
he  gets  completely  cleaned  out,  and  has  to  borrow  a 
guinea  to  pay  the  waiter  who  brings  him  his  brandy. 
One  night  at  the  beginning  he  won  eight  thousand 
poimds,  but  before  morning  lost  the  last  sixpence." 

"  Do  ladies  play  ?  "  Miss  Newville  asked. 

"  Certainly ;  they  love  gaming  as  well  as  the  men. 
Her  royal  highness  the  Duchess  of  Cimiberland  not 
long  ago  set  up  card  playing  and  gaming  in  her  draw- 
ing-rooms. Her  sister.  Lady  Elizabeth  Lutterell,  is 
one  of  the  best  gamesters  in  London.  It  is  whispered, 
though,  that  she  cheats  on  the  sly.  Lady  Essex  gives 
grand  card  parties,  where  there  is  high  gaming.  One 
lady,  whom  I  know,  lost  three  thousand  guineas  at 
loo.  It  is  whispered  that  two  ladies,  not  long  since, 
had  high  words  at  one  of  Lady  Essex's  parties ;  that 
they  rode  out  to  St.  Pancras  and  fought  a  duel  with 
pistols,  and  that  one  was  wounded ;  which  shows  that 
our  noble  women  have  real  grit." 

"  Is  what  you  are  saying  a  fair  picture  of  life 
among  the  nobility  ?  "  Ruth  asked. 

"  I  woidd  not  have  you  think.  Miss  Newville,  that 
everybody  of  noble  birth  or  high  position  is  a  gambler, 
but  every  one  who  plays,  of  course,  wants  a  stake  of 
some  kind." 

"  Pardon  me,  my  lord,  but  I  do  not  see  any  fun  in 
losing  money  in  the  way  you  speak  of." 

"  Well,  perhaps  there  is  n't  any  fim  in  losing,  but  it 
is  real  jolly  when  you  ynn.  It  is  like  drinking  wine ; 
it  warms  you  up." 


182       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Do  you  have  any  other  recreations  equally  attrac- 
tive and  delightful  ?  "  Miss  Newville  inquired. 

"  We  have  gay  times  at  the  Derby  during  the  races. 
Of  course  you  have  felt  the  excitement  of  a  horse-race, 
Miss  Nevr^TUe?" 

"  No,  for  we  do  not  have  horse-racing  here ;  but  I 
believe  they  do  in  Virginia." 

"  No  racing  !  I  am  astonished.  Are  not  your  peo- 
ple rather  slow  ?  " 

"  We  have  few  diversions,  my  lord ;  we  do  not  win 
money  by  racing." 

"  You  can  have  no  conception  of  what  a  gi*and  sight 
it  is.  Everybody  goes  to  the  Derby  —  dukes,  lords, 
bishops,  rectors,  ladies,  and  gentlemen.  Before  the 
race  begins,  we  have  our  lunch  parties.  All  are 
eating,  talking,  laughing,  or  la^^ing  bets.  The  horses 
come  out  from  their  stalls  with  the  jockey  boys  in  red, 
green,  bhie,  and  yeUow,  in  their  saddles.  They  draw 
lots  to  see  which  shall  have  the  inside,  then  go  down 
the  track  a  little  distance.  The  horses  understand 
what  they  are  to  do  just  as  well  as  we  who  stake  our 
money.  They  sniff  the  air,  step  lightly,  then  break 
into  a  run,  and  everybody  is  on  tiptoe.  In  a  moment 
they  are  down  to  the  first  turn,  and  come  in  full  view. 
There  are  four,  perhaps,  neck  and  neck.  You  have 
staked,  say,  on  yellow.  Pie  loses  half  a  length,  and 
your  heart  goes  do\\ni :  but  he  gains  a  little,  is  up  even 
once  more  —  half  a  length  ahead,  and  you  yell  and 
double  your  stakes.  They  are  round  the  second  turn, 
going  like  a  whirlwind ;  yellow  and  blue  are  ahead  of 
the  othei  s,  nock  and  neck. 

''■  '  Two  to  t)ne  on  yellow  I  "  you  shout. 


SOCIETY  LIFE  IN  LONDON.  183 

«  *  I  '11  take  it ! '  roars  Lord  Pilkington. 

"  '  Two  to  one  on  blue  ! '  lie  shouts  back. 

"  '  Put  me  down  for  it  I '  you  answer. 

"  They  are  on  the  home  run.  There  is  a  great  hub- 
bub, like  the  roaring  of  a  tornado,  as  they  sweep  un- 
der the  line,  yellow  ahead.  You  swing  your  hat,  and 
yell  as  loud  as  you  can.  You  are  ten  thousand  in. 
Oh,  it  is  just  the  jolliest  excitement  a  man  can  have ! " 

"  If  you  win,  my  lord,  does  not  somebody  else  lose?  " 

"  Of  course,  Miss  Newville." 

"  Do  they  feel  equally  jolly  ?  " 

"  Possibly  not.  Sometimes  we  are  out  of  pocket, 
and  do  not  feel  quite  so  hilarious,  but  we  swallow  a 
stiff  nipper  of  brandy  and  draw  our  checks  like  men. 
I  won  five  thousand  from  Lord  Pilkington,  three  thou- 
sand from  Lady  Merryfield,  and  quite  a  number  of  one 
hundred  pounders  from  the  ladies  of  my  set,  who  bet 
on  the  blue,  while  I  planked  mine  on  the  yellow.  You 
see.  Miss  New\dlle,  that  ladies  are  sometimes  influenced 
by  fancy.  Lady  Somers,  for  instance,  allowed  fancy 
to  get  the  better  of  judgment.  She  likes  blue  as  a 
color,  above  yellow.  She  is  quite  horsey,  and  thinks 
she  can  drive  a  tandem.  I  had  examined  blue,  felt  of 
his  muscles,  and  made  up  my  mind  that  by  and  by  he 
would  have  ringbone  on  his  left  fore  leg.  I  believed 
that  yellow  had  the  best  wind  and  bottom  ;  but  the 
ladies  followed  the  lead  of  Lady  Somers,  and  so  I 
raked  in  their  shekels.  They  aU  ponied  up  promptly, 
though,  and  paid  their  outs,  like  true-born  Enghsh 
ladies." 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  Miss  Newville,  "  that  I  should 
like  to  lose  or  win  money  in  that  way." 


184       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Why,  Miss  Newville,  once  get  into  it,  and  you 
would  say  it  is  the  most  delightful  sport  in  the  world. 
If  you  tliink,  however,  that  you  would  not  like  to 
participate  iu  such  pleasures,  we  have  the  fox  hunt, 
which  is  the  most  charming  and  innocent  diversion 
imaginable.  You  don't  bet  any  money  in  that,  but 
have  a  roUicking  good  time  riding  over  the  country, 
ladies  and  gentlemen  —  leaping  hedges  and  ditches, 
foUowTug  the  hoimds,  running  Reynard  to  cover,  and 
ha\'ino:  a  lunch  at  the  close  of  the  hunt." 

"  Foxes  are  plentifid  in  this  country,  but  we  do 
not  run  them  doMTi  with  horses,"  Miss  Newville 
replied. 

"  Do  ladies  ride  horseback  in  the  Colonies  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  Were  you  to  attend  meeting  in  the 
country  on  the  Sabbath,  you  woidd  see  many  ladies 
riding  up  to  the  horse-block,  wives  on  pillions  be- 
hind their  husbands.  Do  the  ladies  who  hunt  foxes 
attend  meeting  on  the  Sabbath,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  Ha,  ha  I  I  suspect  what  you  call  going  to  meet- 
ing, with  us  is  going  to  church.  Oh,  we  are  very 
devout.  On  Sunday  we  all  go  to  church,  kneel  on 
our  hassocks,  and  confess  we  are  miserable  sinners, 
recite  the  creed,  pray  for  the  king,  queen,  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  army  and  na\'y.  We  do  our  full  duty  as 
Clnistians,  and  are  loyal  to  the  church,  as  well  as  to 
his  majesty.  ]My  rector,  at  Halford,  is  a  very  good 
man.  To  be  sure  the  living  is  n't  much,  but  he  reads 
the  prayers  well,  preaches  a  nice  httle  sei-mon  of  ten 
minutes  or  so.  for  he  knows  I  don't  care  to  be  bored 
by  the  hour.  lie  enjoys  a  fox  hunt,  says  gi'ace  at 
dinner,  and  makes  a  point  of  lla^'ing  a  httle  game  of 


SOCIETY   LIFE    IN   LONDON.  185 

cards  with  me  Saturday  evening.  He  does  n't  know 
much  about  cards,  so  I  usually  let  him  win  a  few 
shillings,  knowing  the  poor  fellow  will  feel  better 
Sunday  morning  whUe  reading  the  service  if  he 
knows  he  has  a  half-crown  in  his  pocket,  instead  of 
being  out  that  much.  I  know  how  it  is,  Miss  New- 
ville.  I  can  be  more  devout  and  comfortable  on 
Sunday  after  winning  instead  of  losing  five  or  ten 
thousand  at  Almack's." 

"  Perhaps,  my  lord,  you  feel  you  are  not  quite  such 
a  miserable  sinner  as  you  might  be  after  all." 

"  You  have  stated  it  correctly.  Miss  Newville,"  his 
lordship  replied,  not  discerning  the  quiet  sarcasm. 
"  Of  course  I  am  not,  for  if  I  lose,  I  curse  my  luck, 
and  am  ready  to  punch  somebody's  head,  and  rip  out 
some  swear  words,  but  if  I  win,  I  am  ready  to  bless 
the  other  fellow  for  playing  a  king  when  he  should 
have  laid  down  an  ace." 

His  lordship  apologized  for  having  tarried  so  long, 
and  took  his  departure. 

"  She 's  a  Puritan,  through  and  through.  As 
lovely  and  pure  as  an  angel  in  heaven,"  he  said  to 
himself  as  he  walked  down  the  street. 

While  the  months  were  going  by,  Roger  Stanley, 
student  of  Harvard  College,  was  learning  about  life  in 
Rumf ord,  as  a  surveyor  of  land,  spending  his  evenings 
in  the  house  of  Joshua  Walden,  with  Robert  and  Ra- 
chel to  keep  him  company,  especially  Rachel.  He 
foimd  pleasure  in  telling  her  the  story  of  Ulysses  and 
Penelope.  Most  of  the  young  men  of  Rumford  who 
came    to    the  Walden  home    could    only  talk    about 


186       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

oxen,  which  pair  of  steers  could  pull  the  heaviest 
load,  or  whose  horse  coidd  out-trot  all  others.  When 
the  siu'veying  was  done,  Eoger  accepted  the  invita- 
tion of  the  committeemen  to  keep  the  winter  school. 
Never  before  had  there  been  a  master  who  could 
keep  the  big  boys  in  order  without  using  the  ferule, 
but  somehow  the  great  strapping  fellows,  who  might 
have  put  the  master  on  his  back  in  a  twinkling,  could 
not  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  do  an}i;hing  that  would 
trouble  him.  Other  masters  were  content  if  they 
went  through  the  regulai*  daily  stint  of  reading,  writ- 
ing, spelling,  and  cij)hering,  but  he  told  them  about 
luen  who  made  the  most  of  themselves,  and  who  had 
done  great  things,  —  Caesar,  Augustus,  Charlemagne, 
Alfi'ed  the  Great. 

It  was  the  schoohuast^r  who  suggested  that  the 
people  shoidd  meet  once  a  week  in  the  schoolhouse 
to  discuss  the  gi-eat  questions  affecting  the  welfare  of 
the  Colonies,  and  who  ^vi'ote  out  the  questions  to  be 
considered :  — 

"  What  are  the  inalienable  rights  of  the  people  ?  " 
'•  Has  Parliament  any  right  to  tax  the  people  of 

America  without  theii*  consent  ?  " 

'•  Is  it  right  ever  to  resist  the  authority  of  the  king  ?" 
*•  Ought  the  Colonies  to  imite  for  self-defense  ?  " 
'•  Ought    the  Colonies,  in    any  event,  to    separate 

from  England  ?  '' 

People  from  the  back  roads  came  to  hear  what 
Esquire  AValden.  Deacon  Kent.  Shoemaker  Xoyes, 
Blacksmith  Temple,   and    Schoolmaster   Staidey  had 


SOCIETY   LIFE    IN   LONDON.  187 

to  say  upon  these  questions  before  the  parliament  of 
the  people,  in  the  schoolhouse,  lighted  by  two  taUow 
candles  and  the  fire  blazing  on  the  hearth.  King 
George  and  Frederick  North  might  have  learned 
some  fundamental  principles  of  government,  had  they 
been  present. 

Like  sitting  in  heavenly  places  were  the  mornings 
and  evenings  to  Roger  Stanley  in  the  Walden  home, 
where  he  passed  the  first  and  the  last  two  weeks  of 
the  term.  The  food  upon  the  table  was  appetizing; 
deft  hands  had  prepared  the  bannock  —  Rachel's 
hands.  The  plates,  knives,  and  forks  had  been  laid 
by  her.  It  was  she  who  glided  like  a  fairy  around 
the  room.  How  coiJd  his  eyes  help  following  her? 
And  when  seated  at  the  table,  how  radiant  her  face, 
beaming  with  health !  In  the  early  morning,  long 
before  breakfast-time,  he  heard  her  feet  tripping 
down  the  stairs.  While  about  her  work,  he  could 
hear  her  humming  a  song  which  he  had  sung  to  her. 
Very  pleasant  the  "good-morning"  that  came  from 
her  lips  when  he  appeared.  In  the  evening  it  was 
a  pleasure  to  hold  a  skein  of  yarn  for  her  to  wind. 
He  was  sorry  when  the  last  thread  dropped  from  his 
wrists,  and  wished  she  had  another  for  him  to  hold. 

It  was  the  old,  old  story ;  the  growth  of  mutual 
respect,  honor,  and  love,  becoming  daily  more  tender 
and  true  ;  the  love  that  needed  no  pledge,  because  it 
was  so  deep  and  abiding. 


xn. 

A   NEW    ENGLAND   GIRL. 

Lord  Upperton  was  prolonging  his  stay  in 
America.  He  visited  New  York  and  Philadelphia, 
and  was  once  more  in  Boston.  He  called  upon 
Thomas  Hutchinson,  governor ;  upon  Thomas  Flucker, 
secretary ;  and  upon  the  officials  of  the  custom  house. 
He  accepted  many  invitations  to  dinner  from  gentle- 
men and  ladies,  and  took  excursions  into  the  country 
on  horseback.  Lady  Frankland  hospitably  entertained 
him  in  her  country  house,  where  he  enjoyed  himself 
shooting  squirrels  and  partridges.  Returning  to  Bos- 
ton, he  frequently  called  to  pay  his  respects  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Newville,  never  failing  to  ask  for  Miss  New- 
ville,  prolonging  his  calls  till  past  the  ringing  of  the 
nine  o'clock  bell.  He  was  very  courteous,  and  had 
many  entertaining  stories  to  tell  of  life  in  England, 
of  his  ancestral  home  at  Halford.  The  old  castle  was 
gray  with  age ;  the  ivy,  ever  green  upon  its  towers, 
hanging  in  gracefid  festoons  from  the  battlements. 
Herds  of  deer  roamed  the  surrounding  park;  pheas- 
ants crooned  and  cackled  beneath  the  stalwart  oaks  ; 
hares  burrowed  in  the  forest ;  nightingales  made  the 
midnight  melodious  with  their  dulcet  singing.  Old 
tapestries  adorned  the  walls  of  the  spacious  apartments. 
In  the  banqueting  halls  were  the  portraits  of  ances- 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  189 

tors,  —  lords,  dukes,  and  earls  reaching  down  to  the 
fii'st  Earl  Upperton  created  by  William  of  Normandy, 
for  valor  on  the  field  of  Hastings.  On  the  maternal 
side  were  portraits  of  beautiful  ladies  who  had  been 
maids  of  honor  and  train-bearers  at  the  coronations 
of  Margaret  and  Elizabeth.  The  brain  of  Ruth  could 
not  keep  track  of  all  the  branches  of  the  ancestral  tree ; 
she  could  only  conclude  it  was  stalwart  and  strong. 

Lord  Upperton  was  heartily  welcomed  by  Mrs. 
Newville,  who  esteemed  it  one  of  heaven's  blessings 
to  be  thus  honored.  On  an  evening,  after  a  visit 
from  his  lordship,  Mrs.  Newville,  with  radiant  face, 
drew  Ruth  to  her  bosom.  "  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  I 
have  joyful  information  for  you.  Lord  Upperton  has 
done  us  the  distinguished  honor  to  say  to  your  father 
and  me  that  he  has  become  so  much  interested  in  oui' 
daughter  that  he  presumes  to  ask  the  privilege  of  pay- 
ing his  addresses  to  her.  It  is  not,  Ruth,  altogether 
a  surprise  to  me,  for  I  have  seen  his  growing  fondness 
for  you." 

"  Fondness  for  me,  mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear ;  he  has  not  been  able  to  keep  his  eyes 
off  you  of  late.  I  have  noticed  that  if  you  had  occa- 
sion to  leave  the  room,  he  fidgeted  till  you  returned. 
We  have  given  our  consent,  and  he  will  call  to-morrow 
evening  to  make  a  formal  proposal  to  you." 

"  But  I  do  not  desire  he  should  make  a  proposal  to 
me,  mother ! " 

"Don't  want  him  to  make  an  offer  of  marriage, 
child !  Why,  Ruth,  what  are  you  thinking  of  ?  Not 
wish  to  receive  the  attentions  of  a  noble  lord  !  I  am 
astonished.     Do  you  forget  that  he  can  trace  his  line- 


190       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

age  down  to  the  time  of  William  the  Conqueror,  and 
I  don't  know  how  much  farther  ?     You  surprise  me !  " 

"  I  doubt  not  Lord  Upperton  may  have  a  noble  an- 
cestry, but  I  don't  see  how  that  concerns  me.  I  am 
not  going  to  marry  his  ancestors,  am  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  daughter,  he  has  a  crest,  —  an  escutcheon  of 
azure,  sable,  and  sanguine,  a  lion  rampant,  a  unicorn 
passant,  and  an  eagle  volent." 

"  What  would  a  crest  do  for  me?  " 

The  question  puzzled  Mrs.  Newville.  "  I  really  do 
not  know,  daughter,  just  what  it  would  do,  but  it 
would  be  painted  on  your  coach ;  it  would  be  em- 
broidered on  the  banners  hanging  in  Lord  Upperton's 
baronial  hall.  Just  think  of  it !  The  lion,  the  em- 
blem of  streng-th,  the  unicorn  of  energy,  the  eagle  of 
swiftness  and  far-sightedness,  —  it  would  represent 
all  those  qualities  !  " 

"  But  what  if  one  has  not  the  qualities  ?  " 

"I  am  not  so  sure,  daughter,  but  that  you  have 
those  very  characteristics  in  a  remarkable  degree.  I 
know  you  have  strength  of  will  and  energy.  What 
you  undertake  you  carry  through;  and  you  are  far- 
sighted,  you  see  what  others  of  your  age  do  not  see. 
I  do  not  say  it  to  flatter  yoii,  daughter,  but  I  am  sure 
Lord  Upperton's  coat-of-arms  is  emblematic  of  the 
character  of  the  lady  whom  he  \vishes  to  see  mistress 
of  Halford  Castle,"  said  Mrs.  Newville,  with  radiant 
face. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  the  fond  hope  of  years  was 
about  to  be  realized  ;  that  the  time  was  at  hand  when 
tlie  Newville  family  was  to  be  ennobled ;  when  she, 
herself,  coidd  bid  farewell  to  America,  and  be  admitted 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  191 

to  the  charmed  society  of  dukes,  barons,  princes,  kings, 
and  queens. 

"  Lord  Upperton  will  call  to-morrow  evening,  dear, 
and  I  will  have  Madame  Riggoletti  come  in  the  after- 
noon to  do  your  hair.  You  had  better  wear  your 
corn-colored  satin  brocade,  which  is  so  becoming  to 
you." 

"  No,  mother,  I  do  not  wish  to  wear  it,  I  prefer 
to  dress  plainly.  I  want  Lord  Upperton  to  see  me 
just  as  I  am,  a  simple  girl,  who  has  had  few  advan- 
tages to  fit  her  for  the  life  in  which  he  moves.  I  can- 
not appear  to  be  what  I  am  not." 

Ruth  paused  a  moment  as  if  considering  whether 
she  should  speak  the  words  upon  her  lips. 

"  Lord  Upperton,  you  say,  desires  to  pay  his  ad- 
dresses to  me  and  you  have  given  consent.  It  is  an 
honor  for  any  lady  to  receive  attentions  from  a  gentle- 
man of  superior  station,  but  I  cannot  promise  you, 
mother,  that  I  shall  look  with  favor  upon  his  suit, 
honorable  though  it  may  be." 

It  was  said  calmly  but  with  resolution. 

"  I  dare  say,  daughter,  you  may  think  so  now.  It 
is  quite  natural.  It  is  just  what  I  said  when  my 
mother  informed  me  that  Theodore,  your  father,  had 
asked  permission  to  pay  his  addresses  to  me.  I  said 
I  would  not  see  him ;  but  I  did,  and  have  been  very 
glad  ever  since.  After  a  little  while,  I  used  to  listen 
for  his  footsteps.  There  were  none  like  his.  He  al- 
ways called  Thursday  evening  after  the  lecture,^  and 

^  The  lecture  on  Thursday  of  each  week  was  instituted  by  the 
Puritans  soon  after  the  settlement  of  Boston.  There  was  a  moral  if 
not  a  legal  obligation  upon  every  person  to  attend  it.     Consequently  in 


192       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

I  used  to  sit  by  the  window  au  hour  before  it  was  time 
for  him  to  put  in  an  appearance,  looking  for  him. 
So  it  will  be  with  you,  child.  Now  go  to  bed,  dear, 
and  think  of  the  great  honor  which  Lord  Upperton  is 
conferring  upon  us  in  asking  for  your  hand !  " 

"  Shall  I  give  him  my  hand,  if  I  cannot  at  the  same 
time  give  him  my  heart  ? "  Ruth  asked,  her  earnest 
eyes  scanning  her  mother's  face. 

"  Oh,  but  you  will  do  both,  dear.  Many  a  girl  has 
asked  the  same  question  at  first,  but  soon  foimd  that 
the  heart  and  hand  went  together." 

''  I  think,"  Ruth  replied,  ''  if  one  may  judge  from 
outward  appearances,  there  are  some  women  who  have 
given  their  hands  to  their  husbands,  but  never  their 
hearts.  I  see  faces,  now  and  then,  which  make  me 
think  of  what  I  have  read  descriptive  of  deserts  where 
there  is  no  water  to  quench  the  thirst,  no  oasis  with  its 
gi'een  pahiis  giN'ing  gi'ateful  shade  from  the  smnmer 
heat, — faces  that  tell  of  himger  and  thirst  for  the 
bread  and  water  of  love  and  sympathy." 

'•  You  fancy  it  is  so,  and  possibly  here  and  there  you 
may  find  a  mismated  couple,  but,  daughter,  you  will 
see  things  in  a  different  light  when  once  you  get 
acquainted  \\\t\i  Lord  Upperton.  I  believe  there  is 
not  another  girl  in  Boston  who  woidd  not  jump  at  such 
a  catch.  You  may  not  fancy  him  this  moment,  but 
in  a  short  time  you  will  say  there  is  not  another  like 
him  in  all  the  world.     You  feel  just  as  I  did  towards 

the  earlier  years  of  the  Colony  all  business  ceased,  shops  -were  closed, 
usual  occupations  suspended,  and  the  entire  coniniunity  flocked  to  the 
nieetinghouse  of  the  parish  to  listen  to  the  discourse  of  the  minister. 
At  the  time  this  story  begins,  the  obligation  was  not  quite  so  binding 

as  in  former  veal's. 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  19B 

Theodore.  At  first,  I  almost  hated  him,  because  he 
presumed  to  ask  permission  to  visit  me,  but  now  he  is 
the  best  man  that  ever  lived.  Just  think  of  the  offer 
that  has  come  to  you  in  contrast  with  what  your  father 
had  to  offer  me.  Lord  Upperton  brings  you  his  high 
station  in  life,  his  nobility,  his  long  line  of  ancestors, 
a  barony,  a  castle  with  its  ivied  walls,  a  retinue  of 
servants,  his  armorial  bearings  inscribed  on  banners 
borne  by  Crusaders.  He  will  offer  you  rank,  wealth, 
privilege,  honor  at  his  majesty's  court.  Theodore 
had  only  himself  to  offer  me.  He  was  not  much 
then,  but  he  is  more  now.  I  have  done  what  I  could 
to  make  him  what  he  is,  and  now  our  daughter  has  the 
prospect  of  wearing  laces  such  as  are  worn  by  duch- 
esses ;  to  be  received  at  court ;  to  be  spoken  of  as  Her 
Grace.  Now  to  bed,  dear,  and  be  happy  in  thinking 
it  over." 

"  But  I  do  not  love  Lord  Upperton,  nor  shall  I 
ever  care  for  him." 

"  Don't  talk  in  that  way,  Ruth.  You  tliink  so  now, 
but  when  you  are  once  married  and  begin  to  enjoy 
what  will  be  yours,  —  a  coach,  waiting-maids  to  do 
your  bidding,  and  are  invited  to  the  court  of  his 
majesty  the  king,  and  preside  over  your  own  table  in 
the  great  baronial  hall,  with  the  high-born  gentlemen 
and  ladies  doing  you  honor,  it  stands  to  reason  that 
you  will  love  him  who  brings  these  things  to  you." 

"  You  speak,  mother,  of  the  society  in  which  I  shall 
move,  but  I  have  no  taste  for  such  associations." 

"  Tush,  child ;    you  know  nothing  about  it." 

"  Lord  Upperton  has  given  me  a  description  of  the 
employment  and  pleasures  of  the  society  in  which  he 


194       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

moves,  and  I  have  no  desire  to  enter  it.  I  shall  not 
find  happiness  in  its  circles.  I  want  to  be  just  what 
I  am,  your  daughter,  in  our  happy  home." 

"  But,  Ruth,  you  cannot  always  be  with  us.  Your 
father  and  I  earnestly  desire  your  future  welfare  and 
happiness.  I  am  siu'e  he  will  be  surprised  and  pained 
to  hear  that  you  do  not  wish  to  receive  the  attentions 
of  Lord  Upperton." 

Mr.  NewvUle  entered  the  room.  He  saw  the 
trouble  on  the  face  of  his  daughter. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  Ruth  thinks  she  never  can  love  Lord  Upperton 
and  does  not  desire  to  receive  his  attentions,  but  I 
have  told  her  it  is  only  a  present  whim,  just  as  mine 
was  towards  you." 

"Of  course,  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Newville,  with 
fatherly  dignity,  "  it  could  hardly  be  expected  you 
would  feel  any  very  strong  attachment  for  Lord 
Upperton  on  so  short  an  acquaintance.  Conjugal  love 
is  a  plant  of  slow  growth,  but  I  think  you  would, 
ere  long,  appreciate  the  gi'eat  honors  and  the  high 
privileges  which  he  would  confer  upon  you,  and  that 
your  heart  woidd  go  out  to  him." 

The  troubled  look  upon  the  face  of  the  daughter  be- 
came more  intense.  Her  father  as  well  as  her  mother 
would  have  her  receive  the  attentions  of  a  man  between 
wliom  and  herself  there  was  no  possible  sympathy. 
Wliat  shoidd  she  say?  A  tear  trickled  down  her 
cheek :  she  made  no  movement  to  wipe  it  away,  but 
lifted  her  loving  eyes  and  gazed  steadily  into  her 
father's. 

"  Since  you  both  so  earnestly  desire,  it  I  will  meet 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  195 

Lord  Upperton  to-morrow  evening  and  hear  what  he 
has  to  say,"  she  replied. 

"You  could  hardly  do  otherwise.  I  think  the  more 
you  see  of  him  the  better  you  will  like  him,"  said  Mr. 
Newville. 

"  Of  course  you  will,  my  child ;  and  now,  dear,  think 
it  over  in  your  chamber.  I  am  sure  you  will  see  that 
a  great  opportunity  has  come  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  New- 
ville, giving  her  a  kiss. 

It  was  a  summer  night.  The  air  was  fragrant  with 
the  perfume  of  lilacs  and  apple-blooms.  The  young 
moon  was  going  down  in  the  west,  throwing  its  depart- 
ing beams  upon  the  unfinished  tower  of  King's  Chapel. 
Ruth,  looking  out  from  her  white-curtained  window, 
beheld  a  handful  of  cloud  drift  across  the  crescent  orb 
and  dissolve  in  thin  air.  She  coidd  hear  the  footsteps 
of  passers  along  the  street  growing  fainter  as  they 
receded.  The  bell  on  the  Old  Brick  Meetinghouse 
struck  the  hour,  and  then,  in  the  distance,  she  heard 
the  watchman's  voice,  "  Ten  o'clock,  and  all  is  well." 
With  perturbed  spirit,  she  laid  her  head  upon  the 
white  linen  pillow  which  her  own  deft  hands  had 
made.  So  Lord  Upperton  was  to  solicit  her  heart 
and  hand,  and  she  had  consented  to  meet  him.  What 
should  she  say  to  him?  Why  should  he,  having  an 
acquaintance  with  the  noble  families  of  England,  come 
across  the  sea  and  offer  his  attentions  to  an  obscure 
New  England  girl,  and  desire  to  make  her  mistress  at 
Halford  Castle?  Ought  she  not  to  feel  flattered  in 
having  a  noble  lord  for  a  lover?  The  thought  did 
not  stir  her  blood.  Why  was  she  averse  to  receiving 
his  attentions?    What  was  there  about  him  that  made 


196       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

the  thought  repellent?  Was  he  not  a  gentleman? 
Was  he  not  polite?  Did  he  not  show  proper  respect 
not  only  to  herself  but  to  everybody  ?  Why  not  make 
an  effort  to  overcome  her  repugnance  to  him?  Would 
any  other  girl  in  Boston  or  anywhere  else  hesitate  a 
moment  over  such  an  opportunity  as  had  come  to  her 
to  be  called  My  Lady,  —  to  be  mistress  of  a  ducal  cas- 
tle,—  a  position  of  power  and  influence  among  the 
lords  and  ladies  of  the  kingdom  ?  To  have  diamonds 
and  pearls?  To  have  precedence  over  others  of  lower 
station  in  social  life  ?  Questions  came  in  troops  before 
her ;  vain  her  attempts  to  answer  them. 

Again  the  deep  tones  of  the  bell  rang  upon  the  still 
night  air,  and  once  more  she  heard  the  watchman's 
voice  announce  the  hour.  For  a  moment  it  mter- 
rupted  her  reverie,  but  again  the  questioning  went  on. 
Her  father  and  mother  not  only  had  given  their  con- 
sent for  Lord  Upijerton  to  make  proposal,  but  they 
earnestly  desired  she  should  become  his  wife.  She 
could  imderstand  the  motives  that  animated  them. 
She  was  her  father's  idol,  her  mother's  joy  —  very  dear 
to  them.  Were  they  not  ever  doing  what  they  could 
for  her  ?  Would  not  her  marriage  to  Lord  Upperton 
contribute  to  their  happiness  ?  Might  not  her  father, 
through  Lord  Upperton' s  influence  at  court,  attain  a 
more  exalted  position  ?  Woidd  not  her  marriage  fill 
her  mother's  life  with  happiness?  Would  it  be  an 
exhiliition  of  filial  duty  were  she  to  disappoint  them  ? 
And  yet,  what  right  liad  they  to  make  a  decision  for 
her  when  her  own  life's  happiness  was  concerned  ? 
Was  she  not  her  own  ?  Had  she  not  a  right  to  do  as 
she  pleased  ?     Ought  she  to  sacrifice  herself  to  their 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  197 

selfish  interests?  She  did  not  like  to  think  it  was 
wholly  selfishness  on  their  part,  but  rather  an  earnest 
desire  to  provide  for  her  future  welfare.  Ought  she 
not  to  abide  their  judgment  as  to  what  was  best  for 
her  ?  Coidd  she  ever  be  happy  with  Lord  TJpperton  ? 
Could  she  find  pleasure  in  fine  dressing,  card  playing, 
and  masquerading  as  he  had  described  them  ?  What 
would  such  a  life  be  worth?  Were  position  in  soci- 
ety, pleasure,  gratification  of  seK,  to  be  the  end  and 
aim  of  life  ?  There  seemed  to  be  another  somebody 
beside  herself  propounding  the  questions;  as  if  an 
unseen  visitor  were  standing  by  her  bedside  in  the 
silent  night.  Was  she  awake  or  dreaming?  She 
had  heard  the  great  lawyer,  James  Otis,  put  questions 
to  a  witness  in  a  court  where  her  father  in  his  judicial 
robe  sat  as  magistrate.  It  seemed  as  if  she  herself 
had  been  summoned  to  a  tribunal,  and  one  more 
searching  than  the  gTeat  lawyer  was  putting  questions 
which  she  must  answer.  Should  she  give  her  hand  to 
Lord  Upperton  and  keep  back  her  heart?  Ought 
she  to  allow  prospective  pleasure  or  position  to  influ- 
ence her  choice  ?  Could  she  in  any  way  barter  her 
future  welfare  for  the  present  life  and  for  the  larger 
fife  beyond?  Was  Lord  Upperton  of  such  lofty 
character  that  she  coidd  render  him  honor  and  re- 
spect, even  if  she  could  not  give  to  him  a  loving- 
heart  ? 

In  the  half -dreaming  hour  another  face  looked  down 
upon  her  —  the  face  of  him,  who,  in  a  time  of  agony, 
had  been  as  an  angel  of  God,  rescuing  her  from  the 
hands  of  ruffians.  Oh,  if  it  were  he  who  solicited 
permission  to  pay  his  addresses,  how  would  she  lean 


198       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

her  head  upon  his  bosom  and  rest  contentedly  clasped 
forever  by  those  strong  and  loving  arms !  Through 
the  intervening  months  his  face  had  been  ever  present. 
She  lived  again  the  hour  of  their  first  meeting,  that 
of  the  afternoon  tea-party,  the  launching  of  the  Be- 
rinthia  Brandon,  the  ride  in  the  pung.  She  had  re- 
ceived several  letters  from  him,  which  were  laid  care- 
fully away  in  her  writing-desk.  Many  times  had  they 
been  read  and  with  increasing  jjleasure.  He  had  not 
declared  liis  undying  love  for  her;  the  declaration 
was  luiNvi'itten,  but  it  was  between  the  lines.  He 
wanted  to  be  more  than  he  was,  and  she  could  help 
liim.  He  wanted  to  do  something  for  justice,  truth, 
and  liberty;  to  stand  resolutely  with  those  who  wei-e 
ready  to  make  sacrifices  for  their  fellow-men.  What 
a  sentence  was  this  :  "  I  want  to  be  better  than  I  am ; 
I  want  to  do  something  to  make  the  world  better  than 
it  is ;  and  you  are  pointing  the  way." 

Ever  as  she  read  the  words  her  eyes  had  filled 
with  tears.  She  pointing  the  way  I  Those  words 
in  one  end  of  the  scale,  and  Halford  Castle  and 
everything  connected  with  it  in  the  other,  and  the 
writing  tipped  the  beam. 

The  night  was  sidtry ;  her  pulses  bomiding ;  her 
brow  hot  with  fever.  She  sat  by  the  \\dndow  to 
breathe  the  pure  air.  The  stars  were  sliining  in  their 
ethereal  brightness ;  the  dipjjer  was  wheeling  around 
the  polar  star ;  tlie  great  white  river,  the  milky  way, 
was  illuniining  the  arch  of  heaven.  She  thought  of 
llim  wlio  created  the  gleaming  worlds.  Beneath  her 
window  the  fireflies  were  lighting  their  lamps,  and 
living  their  little  lives.  She  could  hear  the  swallows 
crooniiiii'  in  tlieir  nests  beneath  the  eaves. 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  199 

"  He  made  them ;  He  cares  for  them ;  He  will 
care  for  me,"  she  said  to  herseK.  The  night  air 
cooled  her  brow,  a  holy  peace  and  calm  came  to  her 
troubled  heart.  Kneeling,  she  repeated  as  her  prayer 
the  psalm  which  the  rector  had  read  on  Sunday. 

"  He  that  dwelleth  iu  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High 
Shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty. 
I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  He  is  my  refuge,  and  my  strength. 
My  God,  in  Him  wUl  I  trust." 

In  white  garments,  without  adornment,  Ruth  New- 
ville  courtesied  to  Lord  Upperton  the  following  even- 
ing as  he  entered  the  parlor.  Never  before  had  she 
seemed  to  him,  or  to  her  father  and  mother,  so  beau- 
tiful, so  sweet,  and  pure. 

"  Miss  Newville,"  he  said,  "  I  take  it  for  granted 
that  you  have  been  didy  informed  of  the  purpose  of 
my  visit  this  evening." 

"  I  have,  my  lord." 

"  I  come  to  offer  you  my  hand  and  heart.  I  have 
been  charmed  by  your  qualities  of  character  and 
your  beauty,  and  I  fain  woidd  make  you  mistress  of 
Halford  Castle.  I  am  soon  to  return  to  England, 
and  I  desire  to  take  you  with  me  as  my  bride.  I 
have  received  the  gi'acious  permission  of  your  hon- 
ored parents  to  begin  my  suit,  and  I  fondly  hope  that 
I  may  receive  an  affirmative  answer  from  your  lips." 

"  My  lord,  I  am  not  insensible  of  the  honor  you 
confer  upon  me,  but  I  am  not  worthy  of  it.  I  am 
an  obscure  girl.  I  am  not  fitted  to  fill  the  exalted 
station  in  wliich  you  desire  to  place  me." 

"  Pardon  me.  Miss  Newville,  I  have  met  many  a 


200       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

fair  maiden,  but  none  so  charming  as  the  flower 
which  I  desire  to  transplant  from  the  Colonies  to  old 
England.  My  best  judgment  has  selected  you  from 
them  all." 

"  My  lord,  I  appreciate  your  kind  words,  and  what 
you  woidd  give  me  —  j'oui*  honor,  respect,  and  love, 
and  an  exalted  social  position.  I  have  heard  from  your 
lips  somewhat  concerning  the  life  you  would  expect 
me  to  lead,  —  the  society  in  which  you  would  have 
me  move.  I  ti'ust  you  will  pardon  my  frankness,  but 
it  does  not  attract  me." 

"  I  can  quite  luiderstand  you,  dear  Miss  Newville  ; 
it  is  natm-al  that  you  shoidd  shrmk  from  such  a 
change,  but  I  am  sure  j^ou  woidd  adorn  the  position." 

"  More  than  what  I  have  said,  my  lord,  I  do  not 
think  I  shoidd  be  happy  in  such  a  position." 

"  Oh,  I  think  jou  woidd.  Certainly,  it  would  be 
my  desire  to  place  before  you  every  advantage  that 
could  contribute  to  your  weKare  and  happiness.  The 
nobilit}'  of  the  realm  would  follow  in  your  train. 
You  woidd  captivate  them  with  your  grace  and 
beaut}'.  Xo  party,  rout,  or  ball  would  be  complete 
\\'ithout  jou.  I  am  sure  that  her  most  gracious 
majesty  the  queen  would  desire  your  presence  at 
court  to  grace  her  receptions." 

"  You  flatter  me,  my  lord,  but  I  do  not  think  that 
fine  dressing,  the  adornment  of  pearls  and  diamonds, 
promenading,  dancing,  card  playing,  and  masquerad- 
ing would  give  me  the  highest  happiness.  I  think 
that  life  has  a  nobler  meaning.  I  should  despise  my- 
self if  I  made  them  the  end  and  aim  of  my  existence." 

Lord  Upperton  could  not  quite    comprehend  her. 


A  NEW  ENGLAND  GIRL.  201 

He  was  aware  that  across  the  sea  many  a  mamma  was 
laying  her  plans  to  make  her  daughter  mistress  of 
Halford,  and  the  daughters  had  looked  at  him  with 
languishing  eyes,  but  here  was  a  girl,  guileless  and 
pure,  who  was  putting  aside  the  great  boon  he  would 
gladly  bestow  upon  her.  He  must  set  before  her  the 
greatness  of  the  gift.  He  described  his  estate  —  its 
parks,  meadows,  groves  of  oak,  the  herds  of  deer, 
flocks  of  pheasants ;  the  rooms  of  the  castle,  the 
baronial  hall,  with  antlers  nailed  upon  the  beams  and 
rafters,  banners  that  had  been  carried  by  ancestors 
at  Crecy  and  Agincourt.  He  pictured  life  in 
London,  scenes  in  Parliament,  the  queen's  di-awing- 
rooms,  the  pageantry  and  etiquette  at  St.  James's. 
Miss  Newville  heard  him  in  silence. 

"  Whatever  there  is  to  be  had,  whatever  will  con- 
tribute to  your  happiness,  I  shall  lay  at  your  feet, 
dear  Miss  Newville." 

What  should  she  say  to  him?  How  inform  him 
that  all  the  pageantry  of  King  George's  court,  all 
the  wealth  inherited  from  his  ancestors,  was  of  little 
account  in  her  esteem  when  set  against  eternal  veri- 
ties, and  one  of  those  verities  was  fidelity  to  the  con- 
viction that  she  must  be  true  to  herself. 

"  My  lord,"  she  said,  "  you  may  think  me  unappre- 
ciative ;  you  may  regard  me  as  strange,  but  I  must 
be  true  to  myself.  I  cannot  do  violence  to  my  better 
nature.  I  cannot  barter  my  convictions.  I  could 
honor  and  respect  you,  but  something  more  would  be 
your  due ;  that  I  could  not  give  you.  I  could  not 
make  you  happy,  and  I  should  forever  despise  myself." 

It  was  spoken  clearly,  distinctly,  but  with  a  tremor 


202       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

of  voice  and  a  flush  upon  her  cheek  that  heightened 
her  beauty.  Lord  Upperton  sat  in  silence,  ponder- 
ing her  words.  It  was  dawning  upon  him  that  a  girl 
of  the  Colonies  had  rejected  his  suit.  He  had  come 
to  her  with  his  castle,  his  ancestry,  his  title,  his  posi- 
tion as  a  peer  of  the  realm,  but  she  had  put  them  all 
aside.  Not  with  them  could  he  \vin  his  suit.  Instead 
of  accepting  what  he  had  to  give,  she  stood  calm, 
serene,  beautiful,  ratliant,  and  pure,  upon  a  height  so 
far  above  him  that  he  never  could  stand  by  her  side. 
The  silence  was  embarrassing. 

^  Miss  Newville,"  he  said,  rising  and  standing  be- 
fore her,  "  your  answer  is  painfid  to  me.  I  had  an- 
ticipated the  winning  of  your  hand  and  heart.  It  had 
not  occurred  to  me  that  I  should  fail.  I  appreciate 
what  you  have  said.  A  loftier  ideal  of  the  nobleness 
of  tiiie  womanhood  has  come  to  me.  My  honor,  re- 
spect, and  love  for  you  are  deeper  than  ever,  but  I  see 
that  what  I  desu'ed  cannot  be.     I  bid  you  farewell." 

She  courtesied  to  his  bow,  and  extended  her  hand, 
lie  touched  it  to  his  lips,  and  passed  from  the  room. 

Her  head  was  pressing  her  piUow  once  more.  The 
bell  struck  the  midnight  hour.  Once  more  she  heard 
the  watchman's  voice. 

"  Twelve  o'clock,  and  all  is  well." 

''  Yes,  all  is  well,"  she  said,  —  and  her  sleep  for 
the  night  was  calm  and  peaceful. 


xin. 

THE   MOHAWKS    AND   THEIR   TEA-PARTY. 

On  the  evening  of  October  29,  1773,  the  Sons  of 
Liberty  again  assembled  at  the  Green  Dragon.  A 
ship  had  dropped  anchor  during  the  day  off  Cas- 
tle William,  bringing  the  news  that  Parliament  had 
passed  a  law  taxing  tea.  Ever  watchful  for  the 
weKare  of  the  people,  they  came  together  to  hear  what 
the  London  newspapers  and  their  friends  in  England 
had  to  say  about  it,  in  letters  which  Samuel  Adams 
had  received.  The  night  being  cool,  the  landlord 
lighted  a  fire  to  warm  the  room,  and  enable  those  who 
might  like  a  mug  of  flip  to  heat  the  loggerhead  in 
the  glowing  coals.  Upon  the  table,  as  usual,  were  the 
punch-bowl,  crackers,  cheese,  tobacco,  and  pipes.  Mr. 
Adams  seated  himself  by  the  table  and  opened  a  letter. 

"  It  is  from  Mr.  Benjamin  Franklin,"  he  said,  "  who 
writes  that  Parliament  has  passed  a  law  levying  three 
pence  per  pound  on  tea.  It  is  not  to  be  collected  here, 
as  on  other  articles,  but  the  merchant  who  ships  it  is 
to  pay  the  duty.  It  is  a  very  adroit  attempt  to  collect 
revenue.  The  consignees  in  the  Colonies,  of  course, 
win  add  the  amount  in  their  sales,  and  so  the  revenue 
will  be  collected  without  any  agency  on  the  part  of 
the  custom  houses." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Doctor  Warren,  "Lord  North 


204        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

and  the  whole  British  nation  think  we  are  such  simple- 
tons, we  shall  not  see  the  cat  in  the  meal." 

"  It  is  an  insidious  act,"  Mr.  Adams  resumed,  "  in- 
tended to  undermine  the  political  virtue  of  the  people. 
Two  years  ago  our  wives  and  daughters  exhibited 
their  allegiance  to  lofty  principles  by  signing  an 
agreement  not  to  drink  tea  until  the  obnoxious  laws 
then  existing  were  repealed.  Lord  North  laughed  at 
the  time,  but  he  has  discovered  that  the  people  of  the 
Colonies  can  be  loyal  to  a  gi-eat  principle.  The  East 
India  Company's  receipts  have  fallen  off  at  the  rate  of 
five  hundred  thousand  pounds  value  per  annum.  The 
company  has  seventeen  million  pounds  of  tea  stored  in 
London,  intended  for  the  Colonies,  and  for  which  there 
is  no  market.  It  owes  the  government  a  vast  sum. 
The  merchants  who  have  grown  rich  out  of  their  prof- 
its in  the  past  are  not  receiving  any  dividends.  The 
shares  of  the  company,  which  a  few  months  ago  were 
quoted  at  high  rates,  have  become  unsalable.  Parlia- 
ment has  repealed  the  obnoxious  laws  for  taxing  the 
Colonies,  and  passed  tliis  act,  doubtless  thinking  that, 
so  long  as  we  do  not  pay  it  directly  into  the  custom 
house,  we  shall  acquiesce  and  go  to  drinking  tea 
again.  And  there  is  where  the  danger  lies.  We 
have  been  so  true  to  our  con\actions  the  revenue  re- 
ceived from  its  sale  last  year  in  all  the  Colonies  was 
only  fifteen  hundred  pounds.  It  is  very  humiliating 
to  the  king  and  ministry  to  turn  to  the  other  side  of 
the  ledger  and  find  that  it  has  cost  several  hundred 
thousand  pounds  to  maintain  the  troops  sent  to  the 
Colonies  to  aid  in  enfoi-eing  the  revenue  laws  upon  a 
reluctant  people.     This  new  act,  by  having  aU    the 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND   THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    205 

customs  machinery  in  England,  will  have  a  tendency 
to  seduce  the  people  from  their  allegiance  to  a  great 
principle.  How  to  thwart  the  plans  of  the  ministry 
is  the  all-important  question  for  us  to  consider.  Mr. 
Franklin  writes  that  several  vessels  are  soon  to  leave 
London  for  different  colonial  ports  —  three  of  them 
for  Boston." 

"  There  is  an  old  song,"  said  Doctor  Warren, 
"  about  a  crafty  old  spider  inviting  a  silly  little  fly 
into  his  parlor.  I  don't  believe  the  fly  will  accept  the 
invitation  this  time." 

"  The  consignees,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  "  are  Elisha 
and  Thomas  Hutchinson,  the  governor's  two  sons ; 
Richard  Clark  and  sons,  Benjamin  Faneuil,  Junior, 
and  Joshua  Winslow,  —  all  honorable  merchants  ;  but 
their  sjonpathies,  as  we  know,  are  not  with  the  people. 
If  we  allow  the  tea  to  be  landed,  I  fear  the  conse- 
quences. We  must  not  permit  the  levying  of  a  tax, 
without  our  consent,  in  any  form." 

"  I  move,"  said  John  Rowe,  "  that  we  do  not  per- 
mit the  landing  of  any  tea." 

The  meeting  voted  to  adopt  the  motion.  The  formal 
business  ended,  they  refilled  their  pipes,  helped  them- 
selves to  crackers  and  cheese,  punch  and  flip. 

Berinthia  Brandon,  the  following  week,  could  not 
understand  why  Tom  wanted  Dinah  to  make  him  a 
pot  of  paste ;  nor  why  he  was  out  so  late  at  night, 
—  not  getting  home  till  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
None  of  the  watchmen,  going  their  rounds,  saw  any- 
body pasting  handbills  on  the  walls  of  the  houses,  but 
everybody  saw  the  bills  in  the  morning. 


206       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

TO    THE    FREEMEN    OF  THIS  AND  NEIGHBORING 
TOWNS. 

Gentlemen,  —  You  are  desired  to  meet  at  Liberty 
Tree,  this  day  at  twelve  o'clock  noon,  then  and  there 
to  hear  the  persons  to  whom  the  tea  shipped  by  the 
East  India  Company  is  consigned  make  a  public  res- 
ignation of  their  office  on  oath  as  consignees ;  and  also 
swear  that  they  wUl  reship  any  tea  that  may  be  con- 
signed to  them  by  said  company,  by  the  first  vessel 
sailing  for  London.  O.  C. 

Secretary. 

Boston,  Nov.  .3,  1773. 

Show  us  the  man  that  dare  take  this  down  /  f  f  f  / 

Early  in  the  morning  the  town  crier  was  jingling 
his  bell  and  calling  upon  the  people  to  be  at  the  Lib- 
erty Tree  at  the  appointed  hour.  Samuel  Adams, 
John  Hancock,  Doctor  Warren,  and  William  Moli- 
neux  were  there,  and  a  gi'eat  crowd.  The  consignees 
were  assembled  in  Richard  Clark's  store.  The  people 
voted  to  choose  a  committee  to  inform  them  that,  if 
they  did  not  resign  or  pledge  themselves  not  to  land 
the  tea,  they  would  be  regarded  as  the  enemies  of  their 
country.  WiUiam  MoHneux,  Doctor  Warren,  and  six 
others  were  chosen. 

A  great  crowd  accompanied  the  committee.  Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson,  looking  out  ui3on  them  from  the 
window  of  the  council  cluiniber,  saw  that  they  were 
the  foremost  men  of  Boston.  The  consignees  were  in 
Richard  Clark's  store,  and  the  door  was  locked. 

•'  From  wliom  are  you  a  committee,"  asked  Clark, 
opening  a  window. 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND  THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    20T 

"  From  the  whole  people." 

"  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  you." 

"  Then  you  will  be  regarded  as  an  enemy  of  your 
coimtry,"  replied  Mohneux. 

"  Out  with  them !  "  cried  somebody. 

"  Hold  on.  Don't  let  us  make  fools  of  ourselves," 
said  Tom  Brandon. 

There  was  a  murmuring  in  the  crowd. 

"  In  the  king's  name,  I  command  you  to  disperse," 
said  the  sheriff,  stepping  forward. 

It  was  not  he,  however,  but  Doctor  Warren,  who, 
by  a  wave  of  his  hand,  stilled  the  people,  and  per- 
suaded them  to  depart. 

On  Sunday  morning,  November  29,  Tom  Brandon, 
looking  with  the  telescope,  saw  a  ship  at  Nantasket, 
and  knew  by  the  signals  that  it  was  the  Dartmouth, 
Captain  Hall.  When  meeting  was  over  at  noon,  he 
called  upon  Doctor  Warren  and  found  him  writing 
a  circular  to  be  sent  to  the  surrounding  towns,  ask- 
ing the  people  to  assemble  on  Monday  morning  in 
Faneuil  HaU.  Tom  took  the  writing  to  the  printing 
office  of  Edes  &  Gill  in  Queen  Street,  and  a  printer 
quickly  put  it  in  t}'pe.  On  Monday  morning  the 
people  of  Boston,  Charlestown,  Cambridge,  and  all  sur- 
rounding towns  were  reading  it. 

FRIENDS  !   COUNTRYMEN  !   BROTHERS  ! 

The  worst  of  plagues,  the  detested  tea,  shipped  for 
this  port  by  the  East  India  Company,  has  arrived. 
The  hour  of  destruction  or  manly  opposition  to  the 
machinations  of  tyranny  stares  you  in  the  face. 
Every  friend  to  his  country,  to  hmiseK,  and  posterity 


208       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

is  now  called  upon  to  meet  at  Faneuil  Hall  at  nine 
o'clock  thil  day,  at  which  time  the  bells  will  ring,  to 
make  a  united  resistance  to  this  last,  worst,  and  most 
destructive  measure  of  administration  ! 
Boston,  Nov.  30,  1773. 

The  bells  rang.  The  people  surged  into  Faneuil 
Hall.  There  was  a  crowd  in  the  square  around  the 
building,  —  so  many  people  that  they  adjourned  to  the 
Old  South  Meetinghouse,  where  they  voted  that  the 
tea  must  go  back  to  England,  and  that  twenty-five  men 
should  keep  watch  day  and  night,  to  prevent  its  being 
landed.  The  meeting  adjourned  till  Tuesday  moi-ning 
to  hear  what  the  consignees  would  do. 

Through  the  night  Abraham  Duncan  and  the  other 
watchmen  patrolled  the  wharves.  The  Dartmouth  had 
sailed  up  the  harbor  and  was  riding  at  anchor. 

A  great  crowd  filled  the  meetinghouse  at  nine 
o'clock  Tuesday.  The  moderator  read  a  letter  from 
Richard  Clark  and  the  other  consignees,  who  said 
they  could  not  send  the  tea  back,  but  would  put  it  in 
their  stores  till  they  coidd  hear  from  the  East  India 
Company. 

"  No  I  no  I  no  I  '  shouted  the  people,  who  were  more 
than  ever  determined  that  it  shoidd  not  be  landed. 

Tom  saw  the  sherifi',  with  his  sword  by  his  side,  as 
the  emblem  of  authorit}-,  enter  the  meetinghouse,  with 
a  paper  in  his  hand. 

'*  It  is  from  his  excellency,  the  governor,"  said  the 
sheriff,  bowing  to  the  moderator. 

"  AVe  don't  want  to  hear  it,  "  shouted  the  people. 

"  We   are  assembled  in  orderly  town  meeting.     I 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND  THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    209 

think  we  had  better  hear  what  the  governor  has  to 
communicate,"  said  Sanmel  Adams,  and  the  great  au- 
dience became  silent.  Tom's  blood  began  to  boil  as 
the  sheriff  read  :  — 

"  You  are  openly  violating,  defying,  and  setting  at 
nought  the  good  and  wholesome  laws  of  the  Province  * 
under  which  you  live.  I  warn  you,  exhort,  and  re- 
quire each  of  you,  thus  unlawfully  assembled,  forth- 
with to  disperse,  and  to  surcease  all  further  imlawful 
proceedings  at  your  utmost  peril." 

Tom,  and  all  around  him  hissed. 

"  We  won't  disperse  till  we  've  done  our  business," 
shouted  a  man  in  the  centre  of  the  house. 

"  We  will  attend  to  our  affairs,  and  Tommy  Hutch- 
inson may  mind  his  own  business,"  cried  another. 

"  Let  us  hear  from  Mr.  Rotch,"  the  shout. 

Mr.  Rotch,  a  yoimg  merchant,  wearing  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  and  who  owned  the  Dartmouth,  rose. 

"  I  am  willing  the  tea  should  go  back  without 
being  landed,"  he  said. 

The  people  clapped  their  hands. 

"Hall!  Hall!  Let  us  hear  from  Captain  Hall," 
they  cried. 

The  captain  of  the  Dartmouth,  sunburned  by  ex- 
posure, said  it  made  no  difference  to  him.  He  woidd 
just  as  soon  carry  the  tea  back  as  anything  else. 
Once  more  the  people  decided  the  tea  shoidd  not  be 
brought  on  shore.  To  prevent  its  being  landed  it 
was  voted  that  the  watch  shoidd  be  maintained ;  that 
if  the  attempt  was  made  by  day,  the  meetinghouse 
bells  would  ring,  if  by  night,  they  were  to  toll. 

A  few  days  later,  the  Beaver,  corumanded  by  Cap- 


210       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

tain  Coffin,  and  the  Elenor,  commanded  by  Captain 
Bruce,  an-ived.  Tom,  once  more  looking  down  the 
hai'bor,  saw  the  warship  Kingfisher  drop  down  below 
the  Castle  and  anchor  in  the  channel ;  also  the  Active. 
He  imderstood  the  meaning  of  the  movement  —  that 
'the  governor  did  not  intend  the  ships  should  depart 
with  the  tea  on  board.  He  knew  things  would  soon 
come  to  a  head,  for  under  the  law,  unless  a  vessel  dis- 
charged its  cai-go  within  twenty  days  after  arriving 
in  port,  the  ship  and  cargo  would  be  confiscated. 
Once  more  the  people  assembled,  electing  Thomas 
Savage  modei*ator,  and  passing  a  vote  directing  Mr. 
Rotch  to  ask  the  collector  to  clear  the  Dartmouth  for 
London. 

Rain  was  falling,  and  the  wind  east,  rolling  the 
waves  into  the  harbor,  on  the  morning  of  December 
16.  Unmindfid  of  the  storm,  people  from  Boston 
and  all  the  surrounding  towns  were  gathering  in 
the  Old  South  Meetinghouse.  Little  did  the  farthest 
sighted  among  them  comprehend  that  the  fullness 
of  time  had  come  for  the  oi^ening  of  a  mighty 
drama ;  that  the  bell  up  in  the  tower  was  heralding 
the  beginning  of  a  new  era  in  human  government. 

Tom  and  Abraham  foimd  seats  in  the  gallery. 
After  prayer,  Samuel  Adams  said  the  committee 
appointed  at  a  pre\'ious  meeting  had  called  ujkju  the 
collector,  Anth  Mr.  Rotch.  asking  him  to  clear  the 
Dartmouth,  but  the  request  was  not  gi'anted. 

'•  AVe  all  know."  he  continued,  *•  that  the  twenty 
flays  will  expire  at  twelve  oV-lock  to-night.  After 
that  hour  the  Dartmouth  wiU  be  moored  under  the 
gims  of   A(hniral  Montag-ue".s  warships,  and  will    be 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND   THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    211 

taken  possession  of  by  a  party  of  marines.  I  there- 
fore move  that  Mr.  Rotch  be  directed  to  enter  his 
protest  at  the  Custom  House,  and  that  he  be  further 
directed  by  this  meeting  to  apply  to  Governor  Hutch- 
inson for  a  permit  that  shall  allow  the  Dartmouth  to 
pass  the  Castle  and  sail  for  London." 

"  All  in  favor  of  that  motion  will  say  aye,"  said  the 
moderator. 

"  Aye !  "  thundered  the  floor,  galleries,  aisles,  and 
pulpit  stau's. 

"  All  opposed  will  say  no." 

The  silence  was  so  profoimd  that  Tom  could  hear 
his  heart  beat. 

"  This  meeting  stands  adjourned  to  three  o'clock," 
said  the  moderator,  and  the  great  crowd  thereupon 
surged  into  the  streets.  Some  went  to  the  Cromwell's 
Head ;  others  to  the  Bunch  of  Grapes,  White  Lamb, 
Tun  and  Bacchus,  drank  mugs  of  flip,  and  warmed 
themselves  by  the  bright  wood-fires  blazing  on  the 
hearths.  The  meeting  had  adjourned  to  give  Mr.  Rotch 
time  to  jimip  into  his  chaise  and  ride  out  to  Milton 
to  see  Governor  Hutchinson. 

Tom  and  Abraham  walked  towards  the  Cromwell's 
Head.  They  were  surprised  and  delighted  to  meet 
Roger  Stanley. 

"  I  did  n't  hear  of  the  meeting  tiU  last  evening," 
said  Roger,  "  and  I  have  come  in  to  see  what  is 
going  on." 

The  rain  had  drenched  his  clothes. 

"  See  here,  Roger,  you  are  wet  to  the  skin ;  you 
must  have  some  toddy.  Come  along,  I  '11  stand 
treat,"  said  Tom. 


212        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

They  entered  the  Cromwell's  Head,  and  each  took 
a  glass  of  flip,  then  made  their  way  to  the  Long 
Room  in  Queen  Street.  Climbing  the  stairs,  Tom 
rapped  on  a  door.  A  moment  later  a  panel  opened, 
and  a  nose,  mouth,  and  eyes  appeared.  Tom  gave 
another  rap  which  the  nose,  mouth,  and  eyes  seemed 
to  understand,  for  the  door  opened,  and  they  passed 
in  and  it  closed  behind  them. 

Several  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty  were  already  there. 
Some  were  smoking  pipes,  others  sipping  mugs  of  hot 
punch.  Edward  Preston  was  sitting  at  a  table  writ- 
ing. 

"  The  sachem  has  just  finished  his  proclamation, 
and  is  going  to  read  it,"  said  Henry  Piu'kett. 

The  room  became  still,  and  Preston  read  what  he 
had  written. 

Abraxt  Kax-ak-ar-a-toph-qua,  Chief  Sachem  of  the 
Mohawks,   King  of   the    Six    Nations  and    Lord 

OF     ALL     their     CaSTLES,     ETC.,     ETC.,     TO     ALL      LCEGE 

Subjects,  Health. 

Whereas,  tea  is  an  Indian  Plant  and  of  right 
belongs  to  the  Indians  of  every  land  and  tribe  ;  and 
whereas,  our  good  allies,  the  English,  have  in  lieu  of  it 
given  us  that  pernicious  liquor,  Rum,  which  they  have 
pom-ed  down  our  tlu'oats  to  steal  away  our  brains; 
and  whereas,  the  English  have  learned  the  most  exjje- 
ditious  way  or  method  of  drawmg  an  infusion  of  said 
Tea^  without  the  expense  of  wood  or  trouble  of  fire, 
to  the  benefit  and  emolument  of  the  East  India 
trade,  and,  as  vastly  greater  quantities  may  be  used 
by  that  method    than    by    that    heretofore    jiracticed 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND  THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    213 

in  this  country,  and  therefore  help  to  support  the 
East  India  Company  under  the  present  melancholy  cir- 
cumstances : 

Thekefore,  we  of  our  certain  knowledge,  special 
grace,  and  mere  motion  wUl  permit  or  allow  any  of 
our  liege  subjects  to  barter,  buy,  or  procure  of  any  of 
our  English  allies.  Teas  of  any  kind :  provided  always 
each  man  can  purchase  not  less  than  ten  nor  more 
than  one  hundred  and  fourteen  boxes  at  a  time  and 
those  the  property  of  the  East  India  Company ;  and 
provided  also  that  they  pour  the  same  into  the  lakes, 
rivers,  and  ponds,  that,  while  our  subjects  in  their 
hunting,  instead  of  slaking  their  thirst  with  cold  water, 
they  may  do  it  with  tea. 

Of  all  which  our  subjects  will  take  notice  and  gov- 
ern themselves  accordingly.     By  command, 

To-NE-TER-A-QUE. 

"  Attention,  braves,"  said  the  sachem.  "  Each  sub- 
ject will  provide  himself  with  a  tomahawk  and  be  at 
the  wigwam  one  hour  after  candle-lighting  to-night, 
prepared  to  carry  out  the  proclamation.  The  tribe 
will  remember  that  the  Mohawks  do  not  talk  much, 
but  do  in  silence  what  they  have  to  do." 

They  heard  the  proclamation  in  silence,  and  one  by 
one  took  their  departure.  Roger  said  he  would  be  in 
the  Old  South  Meetinghouse  at  three  o'clock  to  hear 
the  result  of  the  visit  of  Mr.  Rotch  to  Governor 
Hutchinson. 

"I  doubt  if  I  shall  be  there;  I  may  have  an  en- 
gagement early  in  the  evening,"  said  Tom. 

Abraham  Duncan  said  the  same. 


214        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  went  down  to  the  shipyard  this  morning  and  got 
two  tomahawks.  They  are  in  my  chamber,  together 
with  the  feathers  and  war-paint  and  the  other  things. 
Come  round  early,  Abe,"  said  Tom  as  they  parted. 

Again  at  three  o'clock  a  great  crowd  filled  the 
meetinghouse.  The  clouds  had  rolled  away,  and  the 
setting  sun  was  thi'owing  its  beams  upon  the  gilded 
weather-vane  when  Roger  Stanley  entered  the  build- 
ing. It  was  so  full  that  he  could  only  stand  in  one 
of  the  aisles.  The  moderator  was  reading  letters  from 
the  selectmen  of  the  surrounding  towns,  saying  that 
they  would  stand  by  Boston  in  whatever  might  be 
done  to  prevent  the  landing  of  the  tea. 

"  Their  letters,"  said  William  Molineux,  rising  in 
one  of  the  front  pews,  "  are  all  very  weU ;  they  show 
the  determined  spirit  of  our  fellow-citizens ;  but  we 
must  have  a  conunittee  whose  duty  it  shall  be  to  pre- 
vent the  landing  of  the  tea.  I  move  the  appointment 
of  such  a  coimnittee." 

The  meeting  voted  that  a  committee  should  be 
appointed. 

The  evening  shades  were  falling  and  the  housewives 
liofhtino:  their  candles.  In  the  Brandon  house  Tom 
and  Abraham  were  putting  on  Indian  uniforms  which 
]SIr.  Bi'andon  years  before  brought  home  from  the 
tribes  along  the  shores  of  the  St.  Lawrence  —  buck- 
skin breeches  and  coats,  fur  caps  trimmed  Avith  eagle's 
feathers.  Tom  tripped  upstairs  to  the  garret,  and 
retui-netl  m ith  a  bunch  of  gfaroet  berries,  with  which 
they  stained  their  faces  and  hands. 

'•  You  look  just  like  Indians,"  said  Berinthia. 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND   THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    216 

"  Say  nothing  to  nobody  as  to  what  you  have  seen, 
'Rinth,"  said  Tom,  as  he  closed  the  door  and  walked 
with  Abraham  rapidly  along  the  street. 

In  the  Old  South  Meetinghouse  Josiah  Quincy  was 
speaking.  The  sexton  brought  in  two  tallow  candles 
and  placed  them  on  the  table  before  the  moderator. 
There  was  a  stir  at  the  door  —  a  commotion  —  a  turn- 
ing of  necks  in  the  pews,  as  the  young  merchant,  Mr. 
Rotch,  entered  the  building.  Many  in  the  audience 
thought  he  had  been  lidcewarm  in  his  desire  to  have 
the  tea  sent  back  to  London,  and  were  ready  to  hiss 
at  him. 

"  Let  us  be  just,"  said  Doctor  Young.  "  Let  no  one 
utter  a  word  against  our  feUow-citizen.  He  is  doing 
all  it  is  possible  for  him  to  do  to  have  the  detested 
tea  sent  back." 

The  murmui'ing  ceased  as  Samuel  Adams  addressed 
him:  — 

"Will  you,  Mr.  Rotch,  send  the  Dartmouth  back 
to  London  with  the  tea  on  board  ?  " 

"  Were  I  to  make  the  attempt  in  compliance  with 
the  request  of  the  people  it  would  be  my  ruin." 

Roger  and  all  around  him  saw  what  they  had  not 
seen  before,  that  were  he  to  make  the  effort  his  ship 
would  be  seized  and  himself  arrested,  and  in  all  prob- 
ability sent  to  England  to  be  tried  for  treason. 

"  Who  knows  how  tea  will  mix  with  salt  water  ?  " 
shouted  John  Rowe. 

"  Let  us  treat  the  fishes  to  a  cup  of  tea,"  shouted 
another,  and  the  windows  rattled  with  their  stamping. 

"Whoop!  Whoop!  Whoop!" 

It  was  a  yell  from  the  street. 


216       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Let  the  meeting  be  in  order.  It  is  a  trick  of  our 
enemies  to  distract  us,"  shouted  some  one. 

"  Order,  gentlemen  !  "  cried  the  moderator. 

"  Whoop  I  Whoop  !  Whoop !  " 

Longer  and  louder  the  yell. 

"  The  Mohawks !  the  Mohawks !  "  the  cry  at  the 
door. 

Those  in  the  galleries  left  their  seats  and  hastened 
down  the  stairs.  People  were  rising  in  the  pews  and 
crowding  the  aisles. 

"  This  meeting  can  do  no  more,"  said  Mr.  Adams, 
and  he  declared  it  adjourned. 

The  people  saw  forty  or  fifty  Indians  who  had  sud- 
deidy  appeared  upon  the  street.  Where  they  came 
from  no  one  knew,  but  they  were  rapidly  making  their 
way  to  Griffin's  Wharf  where  the  ships  were  lying. 
Roger  Stanley  and  a  great  number  of  citizens  followed 
them.  The  sentinels  with  muskets  on  their  shoulders, 
keeping  watch  over  the  ships,  made  no  effort  to  stop 
the  Mohawks.  Roger  saw  the  ship  Dartmouth  along- 
side the  wharf  and  the  Elenor  and  Beaver  a  little  dis- 
tance from  it.  The  chief  leaped  on  board  the  Dart- 
mouth. The  captain  was  on  the  quarter-deck  ;  the 
crew  huddled  at  the  bow  were  astonished  to  see  In- 
dians with  tomahawks  climbing  over  the  sides  of  the 
vessel. 

"The  Mohawks  will  unload  your  tea.  Please 
direct  your  men  to  open  the  hatches  and  then  order 
them  below  into  the  forecastle,"  said  the  chief,  ad- 
dressing the  captain.  "  You  wiU  retire  to  your  cabin. 
The  Mohawks  will  not  injure  your  ship  or  do  you  any 
harm." 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND   THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    217 

It  was  spoken  resolutely  and  in  such  good  English 
that  the  captain  understood  every  word.  The  sailors 
lifted  the  hatches,  provided  hoisting  tackle,  and  dis- 
appeared down  the  forward  hatchway,  and  the  captain 
retired  to  his  cabin.  Roger  saw  an  Indian  run  up  the 
shrouds  by  the  mainmast  and  hitch  a  tackle.  He 
thought  the  savage  had  some  resemblance  to  Tom 
Brandon.  He  also  saw  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  near 
its  first  quarter,  that  while  one  party  of  savages  were 
at  work  upon  the  Dartmouth,  others  were  warping  the 
Elenor  and  the  Beaver  to  the  dock.  It  was  nearly  low 
tide,  and  the  waves  were  swashing  the  timbers  beneath 
the  wharf.  Not  far  away  lay  the  Romney  with  her  can- 
non peeping  from  the  portholes.  Very  quietly  the  Mo- 
hawks began  their  work,  hoisting  chests  from  the  hold, 
cutting  them  with  hatchets,  pouring  the  contents  over 
the  sides  of  the  vessels.  Roger  felt  a  desire  to  take 
part  in  the  work.  Running  to  a  blacksmith's  shop,  he 
smeared  liis  face  and  hands  with  charcoal,  took  off  his 
coat,  turned  it  inside  out,  put  it  on,  leaped  on  board 
the  ship,  seized  a  hatchet,  smashed  the  chests,  and 
tumbled  them  overboard.  The  Indians  worked  in  si- 
lence. The  clock  was  striking  ten  when  the  last  chest 
was  thrown  into  the  dock.  Their  work  finished,  the 
chief  rapped  upon  the  cabin  door,  and  the  captain 
opened  it. 

"  We  have  discharged  your  tea,  captain,  but  we 
have  disturbed  nothing  else.  If  we  have  we  will 
cheerfidly  pay  the  damage." 

The  captain  thanked  him  for  being  so  considerate. 

Tom,  Abraham,  and  Roger,  and  the  other  Indians, 
walked    up  the   street    past    the    house   of  Nathaniel 


218       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Coffin,  his  majesty's  receiver-general.  His  eldest  son, 
Isaac,  one  of  Tom's  schoolmates,  had  just  sailed  for 
England,  Admiral  Montague  having  obtained  a  com- 
mission for  him  in  the  king's  navy,  but  John,  the 
yoimger  brother,  was  at  home. 

Admiral  Montague  was  there  standing  by  an  open 
window. 

"Well,  boys,  you  have  had  a  fine,  pleasant  evening 
for  your  Indian  caper ;  but  don't  forget,  you  will  have 
to  pay  the  fiddler  by  and  by." 

"  Oh,  never  mind,  admiral,  we  are  ready  to  pay  him 
now,"  Tom  replied. 

The  other  Indians  laughed  as  the  admiral  closed  the 
window  and  turned  away. 

Very  quietly  the  Mohawks  separated.  Abraham 
went  to  his  own  house,  Roger  went  with  Tom.  They 
were  soon  in  their  chamber  washing  the  garget  stains 
and  charcoal  from  their  faces  and  hands. 

"  Rat-a-tat-tat !  "  went  the  knocker  on  the  door. 

They  heard  feet  tripping  over  the  stairs  and  then 
Berintliia's  voice.  "  Oh,  Tom,  the  officers  are  at  the 
door.  Put  out  your  light.  Let  me  have  your  Indian 
clothes.      Get  to  bed,  quick." 

Tom  raised  the  window,  emptied  the  water  from  the 
bowl  into  the  alley  behind  the  house,  handed  his 
Indian  suit  to  Berinthia,  put  out  the  light,  and  jumped 
into  bed.  Captain  Brandon  was  not  at  home,  having 
gone  to  Maine  to  obtain  timber  for  the  building  of  a 
ship.  Berinthia  leturned  to  her  room,  lifted  the 
sheets  and  blankets,  tucked  Tom's  suit  safely  away 
between  the  feather  bed  and  the  straw  mattress  be- 
neath it. 


THE  MOHAWKS  AND   THEIR   TEA-PARTY.    219 

"  Rat-a-tat-tat !  Rat-a-tat-tat !  "  went  the  knocker, 
louder  than  before.  Tom  heard  Berinthia's  window 
open. 

"  Who  's  there,  and  what  is  wanted  ?  "  It  was  Be- 
rinthia  speaking. 

''  Is  Captain  Brandon  at  home  ?  "  asked  one  of  the 
men  at  the  door. 

"  He  is  not.     He  is  in  Maine." 

"  We  want  to  search  your  house." 

"  Why  do  you  wish  to  search  it  ?  " 

"  An  outrage  has  been  committed,  and  we  believe 
that  his  son  had  a  hand  in  it  I " 

"  My  brother  is  in  bed,  and  a  friend  is  spending 
the  night  with  him ;  but  I  will  go  and  tell  him." 

Several  minutes  passed  before  Tom  could  strike  a 
light  with  the  tinder-box,  put  on  his  clothes,  and  get  to 
the  door.  Before  descending  the  stairs  he  looked  in 
the  glass  to  see  that  the  stains -had  been  wholly  re- 
moved from  his  face,  and  examined  the  floor  to  ascer- 
tain that  no  tea-leaves  had  been  dropped  from  their 
clothmg.  He  then  descended  the  stairs  and  opened 
the  door. 

"  Good-evening.     What  is  it  you  wish  ?  "  he  said. 

"You  are  Tom  Brandon,  are  you  not?"  asked  one 
of  the  officers. 

"  That  is  my  name." 

"  It  is  believed,  Mr.  Brandon,  that  you  were  one  of 
the  party  who  poured  the  tea  into  the  harbor  this 
evening,  and  we  have  come  to  search  for  evidence." 

"  Come  right  in,  gentlemen." 

The  officers  stepped  into  the  hall. 

"  This   is  the  parlor,  here   is  the  sitting-room,  and 


220       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

beyond  it  is  the  pantry.  I  don't  think  you  will  find 
much  tea,  for  we  quit  drinking  it  three  years  ago,  and 
have  n't  had  any  since,"  said  Tom. 

"  Shall  we  see  your  chamber,  Mr.  Brandon  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  you  will  find  my  old  schoolmate,  Roger 
Stanley  of  Concord,  in  bed,  but  he  won't  mind." 

They  climbed  the  stairs,  entered  the  chamber,  asked 
Mr.  Stanley's  pardon  for  intruding,  took  a  look  at  the 
washbowl,  opened  a  clothespress,  got  down  on  their 
knees  and  looked  at  the  floor,  to  see  if  they  could  find 
any  tea. 

"  Here  is  another  chamber,  my  sister's ;  she  spoke 
to  you  from  the  window.  You  will  hardly  think  of 
entering  the  room  till  she  has  had  time  to  put  on  her 
dress." 

"  Oh,  no ;  we  would  not  be  so  rude  as  to  enter  her 
chamber.  We  do  not  suppose  she  had  anything  to  do 
with  it,"  said  the  officers. 

"  WiU  you  not  take  a  look  at  the  garret?  "  Tom 
asked. 

"  No.  You  have  covered  your  tracks  so  well,  I  do 
not  suppose  we  should  find  anything.'* 

"  Thank  you.  If,  as  you  say,  I  had  a  hand  in  it,  1 
regard  it  quite  a  compliment  that  I  have  covered  my 
tracks  so  well,"  Tom  replied,  as  the  officers  took  their 
departure.  He  went  upstairs  and  opened  the  door  to 
Berinthia's  chamber  a  little. 

" 'Rinth,  you  are  the  best  girl  that  ever  lived,"  he 
said. 

"  Oh,  Tom,  you  did  that  splendidly,"  she  replied. 

There  was  merry  laughter  from  her  lips  as  he  closed 
the  door  and  retui-ned  to  his  chamber. 


XIV. 

BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD. 

The  summer  of  1774  was  waning.  Once  more 
Robert-  Walden  was  on  his  way  to  Boston.  The 
wagon  which  Jenny  and  Paul  were  dragging  was 
loaded  with  bags  filled  with  corn  and  rye,  not  to  be 
sold  in  the  market,  but  a  gift  from  Joshua  Walden 
and  his  feUow-citizens  of  Rumford  to  the  people  of 
Boston.  Parliament,  in  retaliation  for  the  destruction 
of  the  tea,  had  passed  an  act  closing  the  port  to  com- 
merce.^ After  the  first  day  of  June,  no  vessels  other 
than  those  of  the  navy  could  enter  or  depart  from  the 
harbor.  Fishermen  could  no  longer  catch  cod  or 
mackerel  for  the  market.  Farmers  on  the  banks  of 
the  Mystic  could  not  dig  potatoes  from  their  fields 
and  transport  them  down  the  river  on  the  ebbing  tide 
to  the  town  dock.  The  people  of  Charlestown  could 
not   gather  cabbages  from  their  gardens,  take  them 

^  It  is  known  in  history  as  the  Boston  Port  Bill.  It  was  passed 
as  a  retaliatory  measure.  No  possible  advantage  could  .accrue  to  gov- 
ernment by  its  passage  and  enforcement.  It  was  designed  not  only  to 
awe  the  people  into  submission,  but  to  overturn  the  government  of  the 
people  and  establish  kingly  prerogative.  Parliament  could  not  have 
committed  a  greater  blunder.  Instead  of  humbling  the  people  of 
Boston,  it  aroused  the  sympathies  of  the  entire  country,  and  became 
a  potent  inHuenee  in  bringing  about  the  union  of  the  Colonies.  Con- 
tributions of  food,  wheat,  corn,  rye,  peas,  beans,  flocks  of  sheep,  and 
herds  of  cattle  came  from  all  of  the  Colonies. 


222       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

across  the  ferry,  and  peddle  them  in  Boston.  Only 
by  the  road  leading  to  Roxbury  could  the  suffering 
people  be  supplied  with  food.  Besides  closing  the 
port,  Parliament  had  abolished  the  charter  of  Massa- 
chusetts. The  people  no  longer  could  elect  thirty-six 
coimcilors ;  they  were  to  be  appointed  by  the  king, 
instead.  No  more  could  they  lawfully  assemble  in 
town  meeting  to  elect  representatives  to  the  legislature. 
All  rights  and  privileges  were  swept  away. 

It  was  near  simset  when  Robert  turned  into  the 
highway  leading  from  Roxbury  to  Boston.  He  was 
surprised  to  find  fortifications  —  a  ditch  and  embank- 
ment and  cannon  mounted  upon  it  —  at  the  narrowest 
part  of  the  Neck.  The  sentinels  glared  at  him,  but 
did  not  offer  any  insidt.^  He  knew  several  regiments 
of  troops  had  already  arrived,  and  it  was  reported 
that  others  would  soon  be  sent  from  England  to  en- 
force the  laws.  He  drove  slowly  along  the  street,  past 
the  Liberty  Tree.  A  half  dozen  citizens  were  sitting 
on  the  benches  beneath  it  smokmg  theii*  pipes.  There 
were  few  people  but  many  soldiers  in  the  streets.  He 
watered  the  horses  at  the  pump,  then  drove  to  the 
Green  Dragon. 

It  was  a  hearty  welcome  which  he  received  in  the 
Brandon  home. 

"  You  find  us  under  the  harrow,"  said  Mr.  Bran- 
don. "•  The  king  and  ministry  are  determined  to 
crush  the  life  out  of  us.  All  business  has  stopped. 
Grass   is    growing  in    the    streets.       Ship-carpenters, 

^  .Several  refjinients  of  troops  had  already  arrived  in  Boston,  and 
fortifications  were  being;  constructed  on  Roxbury  Neck,  making  it  a 

ii'arrisoned  town. 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.      223 

joiners,  blacksmiths,  ropemakers,  are  icQe ;  no  one  has 
any  work  for  tliem.  Thousands  have  already  left 
town,  and  others  are  going.  Nobody  can  earn  a  penny, 
and  we  are  all  growing  poorer.  We  should  starve  in 
a  short  time  were  it  not  for  the  kindness  and  benevo- 
lence of  the  people.  We  are  receiving  contributions 
of  food  from  everywhere.  Doctor  Warren,  John  Han- 
cock, and  a  large  number  of  our  public-spirited  citi- 
zens are  distributing  the  gifts." 

Tom  said  he  was  aiding  the  committee,  looking 
after  the  poor.  Not  only  were  kind-hearted  people 
sending  grain,  but  flocks  and  herds. 

"  Only  yesterday,"  he  said,  "  Colonel  Israel  Putnam, 
who  served  in  the  French  and  Indian  war,  arrived 
with  a  flock  of  sheep  from  Connecticut.  Day  before 
yesterday  a  sloop  dropped  anchor  in  Salem  harbor, 
loaded  with  corn  contributed  by  the  people  of  North 
Carolina.  It  will  be  teamed  into  Boston.  The  Mar- 
blehead  fishermen  have  just  sent  between  two  and 
three  hundred  quintals  of  codfish.  The  committee  has 
received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Gadsden  of  South  Carohna, 
expressing  the  hope  that  we  never  will  pay  a  cent  for 
the  blasted  tea.  As  evidence  that  South  Carolina  is 
with  us,  he  sent  one  hundred  casks  of  rice,  contrib- 
uted by  his  fellow-citizens,  shipping  it  to  Providence, 
to  be  hauled  the  rest  of  the  way  by  teams.  The  peo- 
ple of  Baltimore  loaded  a  vessel  with  three  thousand 
bushels  of  corn,  twenty  barrels  of  rye  flour,  and  as 
many  of  shipbread.  Herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of 
sheep  are  driven  in  every  day.  The  town  of  Lebanon, 
Connecticut,  sent  thi*ee  hundred  and  seventy  sheep ; 
Norwich,  two  hundred  and  ninety ;  Groton,  one  limi- 


224        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

dred  sheep  and  twenty-six  fat  cattle.  Two  schooners 
have  arrived  at  Salem,  bringing  three  thousand  bush- 
els of  corn  fi'om  Maiyland.  Another  vessel  brought 
one  thousand  bushels  from  Virginia." 

"  These  contributions,"  said  Mr.  Brandon,  "  show 
that  the  people  of  the  Colonies,  or  at  least  a  large 
poi-tion  of  them,  sympathize  with  us  in  our  resistance 
to  t}Tanny." 

"■  You  have  not  told  me  about  Rachel ;  is  she  well  ?  " 
Berinthia  asked. 

Robert  informed  her  she  was  quite  weU,  and  hard 
at  work  as  usual. 

"•  I  suppose  she  is  spinning  for  herself,  these  days  ?  " 
said  Berinthia,  smiling. 

'•  Yes,  I  dare  say ;  she  has  been  making  sheets  and 
pillow-eases  since  Roger  Stanley  was  in  Rimiford." 

"  She  has  wTitten  me  about  him,  and  thinks  there 
is  nobody  else  in  the  world  so  good  as  he.  I  'm  glad 
they  are  engaged.  She  is  just  the  one  for  him  and 
he  for  her." 

There  was  one  pei*son  whom  Robert  wished  to 
know  about,  who  had  been  in  his  thoughts  through 
every  step  of  his  journey.  How  shoidd  he  ask  about 
Miss  Xewville  without  revealing  his  interest  in  her  ? 
How  ascertain  if  she  were  well ;  if  her  heart  was  still 
her  o\m  ? 

"  I  suppose  the  arbitrary  acts  of  Parliament  may 
have  brought  about  estrangements  between  old-time 
friends."  he  said. 

•'  Yes.  former  friendships  are  being  broken.  Many 
of  my  old  ac(|uaintances  do  not  speak  to  me." 

'•  Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ?  " 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.      225 

"Yes,  famiKes  are  being  divided.  Fathers  and 
mothers  taking  sides  with  the  king,  sons  and  daugh- 
ters standing  resohitely  for  the  rights  of  the  people. 
You  remember  that  sweet  girl,  Lucy  Flucker,  whom 
you  met  at  Miss  Newville's  garden  party  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  lovely  lady." 

"  Her  father  is  secretary  of  the  Colony,  and  of 
course  sides  with  the  king,  but  she  is  soon  to  be  mar- 
ried to  the  bookseller,  Mr.  Knox,  greatly  against  the 
wishes  of  the  family ;  not  because  he  is  not  worthy  of 
her,  but  because  he  opposes  the  king  and  his  minis- 
ters," said  Berinthia. 

"  Are  you  and  Miss  Newville  still  friends  ?  " 

"  Yes,  just  as  good  friends  as  ever.  Her  father,  of 
course,  is  a  Tory,  and  her  mother  is  a  red-hot  one, 
but  Ruth  keeps  her  own  counsel.  You  can  have  no 
idea  what  a  noble  girl  she  is,  gracious  to  everybody, 
but  true  to  herself.  She  had  an  offer  of  marriage 
from  Lord  Upperton,  a  little  while  ago,  and  refused 
him,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  her  friends,  and  espe- 
cially her  mother.  Just  why  she  rejected  his  suit  no 
one  knows.  Intimate  as  we  are,  she  never  has  let  me 
into  the  secret." 

"  From  what  little  I  have  seen  of  Miss  Newville, 
she  seems  to  be  a  lady  of  sterling  character,"  Robert 
replied. 

"  She  has  many  admirers,  especially  among  his 
majesty's  officers.  She  receives  them  with  charming 
courtesy,  listens  to  their  flattering  words,  but  is  very 
chary  of  her  favors.  I  do  not  wonder  that  half  a 
dozen  colonels,  majors,  and  captains  are  dead  in  love 
with  her.     I  hope  you  will  see  her  while  here.     She 


226       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

often  inquires  about  you  and  Rachel,  and  wishes  she 
could  have  another  ride  in  a  pung.  I  '11  tell  you  what 
I  '11  do,  —  invite  her  to  take  supper  with  us,  and  then 
you  '11  see  what  a  glorious  girl  she  is." 

"  I  can  believe  all  you  say  of  her." 

Once  more,  the  following  morning,  Robert  had  the 
pleasure  of  shaking  hands  with  Doctor  Warren  and 
Samuel  Adams,  and  receiving  the  thanks  of  the  com- 
mittee of  supply  for  the  contribution  from  Rumford. 

Mr.  Adams  said  the  Colonies  must  prepare  to  enter 
upon  a  struggle  to  maintain  their  liberties.  Governor 
Gage  was  carrjdng  things  with  a  high  hand.  A  few 
nights  before,  a  body  of  troops  had  seized  the  powder 
in  the  magazines  out  towards  Medford,  and  taken  it 
to  the  Castle.^  General  Gage  was  seizing  muskets. 
He  had  purchased  cannon  and  cohorn  mortars,  and 
chain-shot  of  Mr.  Scott,  and  had  paid  him  five  hun- 

1  The  powder  belonging-  to  the  Province  was  stored  in  a  magazine 
on  Qnarry  Hill,  in  Charlestown.  During  the  month  of  August,  1774, 
several  of  the  towns  removed  their  proportion  of  the  ammunition. 
At  half  past  four  o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  September  1,  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Madison,  with  260  men,  embarked  in  thirteen  large  boats  at 
Long  Wharf,  rowed  up  Mystic  River,  and  landed  at  Mr.  Temple's 
farm,  seized  250  half  barrels  of  powder  and  landed  it  in  the  Castle, 
also  two  cannon  from  the  gun-houses  in  Cambridge.  The  news 
spread,  and  before  evening  nearly  5,000  people  had  assembled  in  Cam- 
bridge with  their  muskets.  They  compelled  Mr.  Danforth,  member 
of  the  governor's  council,  to  resign.  The  high-sheriff  promised  to  serve 
no  warrant  under  the  new  act  of  parliament.  Lieutenant-Governor 
Oliver  hastened  to  Boston,  and  informed  General  Gage  that  if  he  were 
to  send  a  body  of  troops  into  the  country  the  people  would  rise  in  their 
anger.  I'pon  his  return  to  Cambridge  the  people  surrounded  his  house 
and  compelled  him  to  resign  his  commission.  General  Gage  wrote  to 
London  that  he  must  have  more  troops  to  enable  him  to  strike  a  de- 
cisive blow.  He  expected  the  people  would  march  into  Boston.  In 
order  to  jjrevent  sui'prise.  the  guards  were  doubled,  and  the  troops 
ordered  to  lay  on  their  arms  through  the  night. 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.      227 

dred  pounds  for  them.  He  hoped  the  people  of  Rum- 
ford  would  put  themselves  in  a  condition  to  be  ready 
at  a  minute's  warning  to  resist  any  aggressions  on  the 
part  of  the  troops.  It  was  evident  that  the  king 
was  determined  to  carry  out  his  plans  by  force  of 
arms. 

Having  delivered  the  donation  to  the  committee, 
Robert  strolled  through  the  town,  finding  many 
houses,  shops,  and  stores  tenantless.  There  was  a 
strange  silence,  —  no  hurrying  of  feet,  no  rumbling 
of  teams,  no  piles  of  merchandise.  The  stores  were 
closed,  the  shutters  fastened.  Grass  was  growing 
in  the  streets  and  tufts  of  oats  were  springing  up 
where  the  horses,  a  few  weeks  before,  had  munched 
their  provender.  Here  and  there  he  met  men  and 
boys,  wandering  listlessly,  with  sadness  in  their  faces, 
but  yet  behind  the  sorrow  there  was  a  determination 
to  endure  to  the  bitter  end. 

Robert  visited  his  old  acquaintance,  Henry  Knox, 
no  longer  in  the  bookstore  at  the  corner  of  King 
Street,  opposite  the  Town  House,  but  in  a  store  of  his 
own  on  Cornhill.  He  passed  a  tailor's  shop  and  a 
harness-maker's  before  he  came  to  Mr.  Knox's  book- 
store, where  he  was  heartily  welcomed. 

"I  remember  the  book  which  you  purchased  the 
first  time  we  met ;  I  hope  you  liked  it." 

"It  is  very  entertaining,  and  has  been  read  by 
nearly  everybody  in  Rumford,  and  is  pretty  much 
worn  out,"  Robert  replied. 

Wliile  talking  with  Mr.  Knox,  he  saw  a  white- 
haired  gentleman  pass  the  store.  The  next  moment 
he  heard  a  bell  jingling  in  the  shop  of  the  harness- 


228       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

maker,  then  in  the  shoemaker's,  and  lastly  in  the  tail- 
or's. Mr.  Knox  laughed  as  the  gentleman  quickened 
his  pace. 

"  Possibly,  Mr.  Walden,  you  do  not  understand 
the  ringing  of  the  bells  in  succession.  The  gentle- 
man is  one  of  the  Tory  councilors  recently  appointed 
by  Governor  Gage.  He  has  accepted  the  appoint- 
ment and  the  citizens  are  worrying  the  life  out  of 
him.  Each  shopman  has  a  bell  which  he  jingles  the 
moment  he  spies  a  coimcilor,  giving  notice  to  the  other 
shopmen."  Mr.  Knox  looked  up  at  the  clock.  "  It 
is  about  time  for  the  council  to  assemble  in  the  Town 
House  ;  quite  likely  you  will  hear  the  bells  tinkle 
again.  More  than  half  of  those  appointed  by  General 
Gage  have  already  resigned,  and  I  do  not  doubt  others 
will  ere  long  throw  up  their  commissions.  Not  much 
honor  is  to  be  gained  by  holding  an  office  against 
public  opinion." 

"  It  is  not  a  pleasing  sight  —  the  presence  of  so 
many  troops,"  Robert  remarked. 

"  Nominally,  we  are  under  civil  law ;  but  in  reality 
our  civil  rights  are  gone,  and  we  are  under  military 
government,"  Mr.  Knox  replied. 

Two  officers  entered  the  store  and  were  courteously 
received  by  the  bookseller,  who  showed  them  the  latest 
books  received  from  London.  He  informed  Robert, 
in  a  whisper,  that  they  were  Major  Jolm  Small  and 
Ensign  De  Berniere.  Another  gentleman  entered,  a 
citizen,  whose  coat  was  covered  with  dust,  as  if  he  had 
been  long  on  the  road.  He  was  heartily  welcomed  by 
Mr.  Knox,  who  introduced  him  to  Robert  as  Colonel 
Israel  Putnam  of  Connecticut. 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.       229 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  my  father  speak  of  you ;  he 
was  a  lieutenant  under  Captain  Stark  at  Ticonderoga. 
Perhaps  you  remember  him,"  Robert  said. 

"  Indeed  I  do  remember  Joshua  Walden,  and  a 
braver  man  never  wore  a  uniform  in  the  Rifle  Rangers 
than  he." 

The  major  of  the  king's  troops  laid  down  his  book 
and  approached  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  WeU,  I  declare !  If  here  is  n't  my  old  friend 
Putnam,"  he  said. 

There  was  mutual  hand-shaking  between  Major 
Small  and  Colonel  Putnam,  who  had  fought  side  by 
side  under  the  walls  of  Ticonderoga  and  at  Fort  Ed- 
ward. 

"  And  so  you  are  here  to  enforce  the  Regulation 
Act,"  said  Putnam. 

"  It  is  because  you  are  rebellious,"  Small  replied. 

"  You  are  attempting  to  subvert  our  liberties  by 
enforcing  unrighteous  laws.  The  Colonies  exhibited 
their  loyalty  to  the  king  when  we  stood  side  by  side 
to  drive  out  the  French.  We  taxed  ourselves  to  the 
utmost.  England  has  repaid  but  a  very  small  propor- 
tion of  the  cost.  We  were  loyal  then,  and  we  are  loyal 
now ;  but  we  never  will  submit  to  tyranny,"  continued 
Putnam. 

"  The  people  of  this  town  threw  the  tea  into  the 
dock,  and  now  they  must  pay  for  it.  Those  that 
dance  must  settle  with  the  fiddler,"  SmaU  replied. 

"  Not  one  penny  will  we  ever  pay.  Parliament  and 
the  king  have  closed  the  port,  bringing  distress  upon 
the  community ;  but  it  has  awakened  the  sympathies 
of   the  country  from    Passamaquoddy  to  Savannah. 


230       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Now,  Small,  you  are  an  old  soldier,  and  so  am  I ;  we 
have  smelled  gunpowder,  and  can  afford  to  talk 
plainly.  You  are  here,  five  thousand  or  more,  with 
several  thousand  additional  troops  just  ready  to  sail 
from  England.  You  have  come  to  overawe  us  by 
force  of  arms.  You  have  changed  the  charter  of  this 
Province ;  if  this,  why  not  all  the  others  ?  Why  do 
you  do  it  ?  I  say  you,  for  you  represent  the  king ; 
you  do  it  because  you  are  determined  to  make  the 
Colonies  subservient  lo  the  crown.  You  cannot  bear 
to  have  us  manufacture  anything  this  side  of  the  sea, 
and  are  determined  to  make  us  your  milch  cow.  Let 
me  tell  you  that  you  won't  succeed.  You  do  not  know 
the  spirit  of  the  people.  Let  one  drop  of  blood  be 
shed  by  the  troops,  and  a  mighty  host  of  armed  men 
will  close  around  you.  I  know  you  can  fight,  and  so 
can  we ;  if  you  don't  think  so,  try  it." 

"  Ha,  ha !  Put,  you  are  the  same  old  flint,  ever 
ready  to  strike  fire.  We  won't  quarrel  now.  Come, 
let  us  step  down  to  the  Bunch  of  Grapes,  have  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  talk  over  old  times." 

Arm  in  arm  they  walked  down  King  Street  to  the 
tavern. 

Early  the  following  afternoon  Miss  Newville  was 
welcomed  to  the  Brandon  home. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  we  have  met,"  she  said, 
reaching  out  her  hand  to  Robert.  "  I  am  pleased  to 
see  you  once  more.  I  hoj)e  you  are  well.  And  how 
is  Rachel?'" 

Many  times  he  had  thought  of  her  as  he  last  be- 
liokl  her,  standing  beneath  the  portico  of  her  home  in 
the  radiant  light  of   the  moon.     Her  parting  words 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.      231 

had  been  an  abiding  memory  —  "  Good-by,  till  we 
meet  again."  Once  more  her  hand  was  resting  in 
his.  She  was  no  longer  a  girl,  but  entering  upon 
womanhood.  He  told  the  reason  of  his  being  there, 
to  bring  the  gift  of  Rumford  to  the  suffering  poor. 
She  had  many  questions  to  ask  about  Rachel.  Was 
she  still  making  cheese  ?     Had  she  many  flowers  ? 

"  I  suppose  Rachel's  brother  prepares  the  flower- 
beds as  in  former  years,"  she  said,  laughing. 

"  Yes,  I  spaded  them  for  her." 

"  Berinthia  informs  me  that  she  has  found  her  true 
love." 

"  So  it  appears." 

"  I  doubt  not  she  is  very  happy." 

"  She  seems  to  be ;  she  is  singing  from  morning 
till  night." 

"  I  am  so  glad.  I  only  saw  Mr.  Stanley  at  the  time 
of  the  launcliing  of  the  ship,  you  remember,  but 
thought  him  worthy  of  any  woman's  love.  Do  you 
still  have  delightful  times  at  quiltings  and  huskings  ?  " 

"  In  the  country,  customs  rarely  change.  The 
young  ladies  still  have  their  quilting  parties.  Rachel 
will  soon  be  getting  her  fixings,  and  we  doubtless  shall 
have  jolly  times." 

"  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  help  her.  With  so 
many  things  to  care  for,  I  do  not  suppose  she  finds 
much  time  for  reading  ?  " 

"  Very  little.  Besides,  we  do  not  have  many  books 
to  read.  '  The  New  Hampshire  Gazette  '  comes  once 
a  week,  giving  us  a  little  glimpse  of  what  is  going  on 
in  the  world." 

'•  I  forgot  you  have  no  bookstore  with  all  the  new 


232       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION: 

volumes  printed  in  London,  —  history,  travel,  poetry, 
and  novels,  as  we  have  here." 

She  said  that  Mr.  Knox,  the  bookseller,  had  been 
very  kind  to  her,  supplying  her  with  the  new  books 
arriving  from  London,  and  had  just  handed  her  the 
poems  of  Oliver  Goldsmith. 

The  afternoon  waned. 

"  Shall  we  go  up  on  the  housetop  and  see  the  sun 
set?  "  Berinthia  asked. 

The  harbor,  the  fleet  of  warships  at  anchor,  the 
distant  ocean,  the  distant  woodlands,  made  a  beauti- 
ful panorama. 

"  When  I  see  such  beauty,"  said  Miss  Newville,  "  I 
want  to  be  an  artist  or  a  poet  to  give  expression  to 
my  feelings.  See  the  purple  and  gold  on  the  Milton 
Hills,  the  light  on  the  water,  the  russet  and  crimson 
of  the  forests !  How  beautiful !  "  she  cried,  with  a  rich 
bloom  upon  her  cheek  as  she  gazed  upon  the  landscape. 
The  tap  of  a  drum  and  the  tramping  of  a  regiment 
along  the  street  attracted  her  attention.  "  I  am  weary 
of  seeing  scarlet  uniforms,"  she  said. 

"  Will  you  not  make  an  exception  of  those  who 
call  upon  Miss  Newville  ?  "  Berinthia  asked. 

"  No.  I  do  not  even  care  to  see  General  Gage 
or  Earl  Percy  in  their  gold-laced  coats.  They  are 
delightful  gentlemen,  and  frequent  visitors  in  our 
home.  I  find  much  pleasure  in  listc^ning  to  Earl 
Percy's  description  of  things  in  London ;  but  I 
should  be  better  pleased  were  he  to  visit  us  as  a  citi- 
zen, laying  aside  his  military  trappings,  the  emblems 
of  arbitrary  power." 

The  sun  was  sinkinff  behind  the  western  hills.     As 


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LORD    PERCY 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.        233 

the  last  beams  faded  from  the  gilded  vane  of  Christ 
Church,  they  heard  the  beating  of  drums  and  the 
shrill  piping  of  boatswain's  whistles  on  the  decks  of 
the  warships.  A  cannon  flashed  on  the  bastion  of 
the  Castle,  and  the  boom  of  the  gun  rolled  far  away 
as  the  Cross  of  St.  George  descended  from  flagstaff 
and  topmast  to  be  furled  for  the  night. 

"It  is  the  sunset  gun ;  the  signal  for  taking  down 
the  flags,"  said  Berinthia. 

"  I  often  watch  from  my  chamber  window  for  the 
flashing  of  the  cannon,"  Miss  Newville  remarked. 

"It  is  a  beautiful  sight;  but  woiUd  be  more  ex- 
hilarating if  the  flag  was  what  it  ought  to  be,"  said 
Robert. 

The  twilight  had  not  faded  fi'om  the  sky  when 
Robert  accompanied  Miss  Newville  to  her  home. 
Officers  of  the  king's  regiments  lifted  their  hats  to 
her  upon  the  way ;  their  attentions  were  recognized 
>Wth  dignified  gTace.  Robert  saw  scowls  on  their 
faces  as  they  glared  at  him,  as  if  to  challenge  his  right 
to  be  her  escort. 

"The  night  is  hot  and  the  air  sultry,  and  if  you 
please,  Mr.  Walden,  we  will  sit  in  the  garden  rather 
than  m  the  house,"  she  said. 

They  strolled  beneath  the  trees  bending  with  the 
weight  of  ripening  fruit,  and  seated  themselves  in  a 
nistic  arbor.  The  early  grapes  were  pui-pling  above 
them. 

"  I  do  not  know,  Mr.  Walden,  that  I  quite  compre- 
hended your  meaning  when  you  said  the  flag  would 
be  more  beautifid  if  it  were  what  it  ought  to  be.  I 
think  it  very  beautifid  as  it  is." 


234       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  did  not  have  reference,  Miss  Newville,  to  the 
texture  or  quality  of  the  cloth,  or  the  arrangement 
of  colors,  neither  to  the  devices,  —  the  crosses  of  St. 
George  and  St.  Andrew,  —  but  thought  of  it  as  a  sym- 
bol of  power.  My  father  fought  under  it,  and  it  has 
waved  in  triumph  on  many  battlefields ;  but  just  now 
it  is  being  used  to  deprive  us  of  our  rights." 

"Have  you  ever  read  the  legend  of  St.  George?" 
she  asked. 

"  I  have  not,  and  I  hardly  know  what  the  Cross  of 
St.  George  stands  for." 

"  It  is  a  beautif  id  story.  I  read  it  not  long  ago  in 
a  book  which  I  found  in  Mr.  Knox's  store.  Would 
you  like  to  hear  it  ?  " 

"  Please  tell  me  about  it." 

''  The  story  runs  that  ever  so  many  years  ago  there 
was  a  terrible  dragon  —  a  monster,  part  snake,  part 
crocodile,  with  sharp  teeth,  a  forked  tongue,  claws, 
and  wings.  It  could  crawl  upon  the  land  or  swim 
in  the  water.  Every  day  it  came  from  its  lair  and 
ate  the  sheep  in  the  pastures  around  the  old  city  of 
Beiytus.  When  the  sheep  were  gone  it  ate  little 
children.  The  king  of  the  city  could  think  of  no- 
thing better  than  to  issue  an  edict  requiring  the  selec- 
tion of  two  eliildren  under  fifteen  years  old  by  lot,  to 
be  given  to  the  dragon.  One  day  the  lot  fell  upon 
the  king's  daughter,  the  Princess  Cleodolinda,  a  beau- 
tiful girl,  and  as  good  as  she  was  beautiful.  It  was 
a  terrible  blow  to  the  king.  He  offered  all  his  gold, 
precious  stones,  glittering  diamonds,  and  emei'alds, 
and  half  his  kingdom,  if  the  people  would  consent  to 
her    exemption,    which   they   woukln't   do.     He    had 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.      235 

made  the  edict ;  they  had  given  their  childi-en ;  he 
must  give  his  daughter.  Being  king,  he  thought  he 
could  take  somebody's  else  daughter.  That  made  the 
people  angry,  and  they  threatened  to  kill  him.  Then 
the  princess  showed  how  good  and  noble  and  true  she 
was.  She  said  she  woidd  die  rather  than  there  should 
be  any  trouble.  It  was  a  sad  morning  when  she  bade 
her  father  and  mother  and  all  her  friends  good-by, 
and  went  out  from  the  city,  all  the  people  weeping  to 
see  her  in  her  youth  and  beauty,  so  calm,  peaceful, 
and  resigned,  walking  in  the  green  field,  waiting  for 
the  dragon.  They  saw  the  monster  crawl  towards 
her.  Just  then  they  beheld  a  yoimg  man  with  a 
shining  shield  and  waving  plume,  on  horseback,  with 
sword  and  lance,  approaching.  It  was  George  of 
Cappadocia,  a  brave  Christian  youth.  '  Fly !  fly  • ' 
shouted  the  princess.  '  Why  should  I  fly  ?'  he  asked. 
'  Do  you  not  see  the  dragon  ?  He  will  eat  you  as  he 
will  me.'  '  I  am  not  afraid  of  him,  and  I  will  deliver 
you,'  said  he,  rushing  upon  the  dragon  with  his  lance. 
It  was  a  terrible  fight.  The  monster  hissing,  running 
out  his  tong-ue,  snapping  his  jaws,  striking  with  his 
tail  and  sharp  claws ;  but  the  brave  George  kept  up 
the  fight,  striking  his  lance  through  the  thick  hide 
and  shiny  scales,  and  pinning  the  writhing  creature 
to  the  earth.  '  It  is  not  by  my  own  might,  but  God, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  who  has  given  me  the  power  to 
subdue  this  ApoUyon,'  he  said.  At  that,  the  whole 
city  accepted  the  Christian  religion.  In  recognition 
of  the  victory  he  put  the  sign  of  the  letter  X,  repre- 
senting the  cross,  upon  his  flag.  The  king  was  so 
pleased  that,  besides  becoming  a  Christian,  he  offered 


236       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

George  all  his  gold  and  silver  and  diamonds  and  pre- 
cious stones ;  but  the  prince  would  not  keep  them ; 
he  gave  them  to  the  poor." 

"It  is  indeed  a  beautiful  story,"  said  Robert, 
charmed  by  the  narration. 

"  I  suppose  the  legend  represents  the  conflict  be- 
tween wickedness  and  righteousness,"  added  Miss 
Newville. 

"  Did  George  become  the  son-in-law  of  the  king  ?  " 
Robert  asked. 

Miss  Newville  laughed  heartily. 

"  If  it  were  a  story  in  a  novel,"  she  said,  "  of  course 
that  would  be  the  outcome  of  the  romance.  No ;  he 
went  on  his  travels  converting  people  to  Christianity. 
The  Greek  Christians  kept  him  in  remembrance  by 
adopting  the  letter  X  as  the  sign  of  the  cross.  When 
Richard  the  Lion-Hearted  started  on  his  crusade  to  res- 
cue the  holy  sepulchi^e  from  the  Moslems,  he  selected 
St.  George  as  his  protector.  He  is  the  patron  saint 
of  England.  He  stands  for  courage  in  defense  of  the 
truth." 

"  That  is  what  the  Cross  of  St.  George  should  stand 
for,  Miss  Newville,  but  just  now  it  represents  tyranny 
and  oppression.  It  is  a  beautiful  flag,  the  crosses  of 
St.  George  and  St.  Andrew  combined,  in  red,  white, 
and  blue.  No  other  banner  symbolizes  so  much  that 
is  precious  of  what  men  have  done,  but  the  king  and 
his  ministers  are  perverting  it.  St.  George  and  St. 
Andi-ew  were  representatives  of  justice  and  righteous- 
ness. They  died  for  principles  which  in  their  nature 
are  eternal,  which  will  remain,  when  we  are  gone.  I 
have  taken  pride  in  l)eing  an  Englishman.     The  flag 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.       237 

thrills  me.  I  like  to  think  of  the  brave  deeds  that 
have  been  done  under  it.  No  other  banner  means  so 
much.  It  stirs  me  to  think  of  it  as  waving  not  only 
in  England,  but  here,  in  Canada,  in  Sokth  America, 
and  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges.  Of  course,  the  flag, 
the  crosses  upon  it,  signify  suffering,  devotion,  heroism, 
bravery.     It  is  these  things  that  warm  my  blood." 

"  Go  on,  please,  Mr.  Walden.  I  want  to  hear 
more,"  said  Miss  Newville  as  he  paused. 

"  I  have  delighted  in  being  an  Englishman  because 
the  flag  stands  for  aU  I  hold  most  dear,  but  I  am  con- 
scious that  my  love  for  it  is  not  what  it  was.  The 
king  and  his  ministers  by  their  arbitrary  acts,  Par- 
liament by  passing  laws  taking  away  chartered  rights, 
are  alienating  the  affections  of  the  Colonies.  We  are 
not  so  meek  that  we  are  ready  to  kiss  the  hand  that 
smites  us.  The  time  may  come.  Miss  Newville,  when 
the  people  this  side  the  Atlantic  will  have  a  flag  of 
their  own.  If  we  do  it  will  be  a  symbol  of  a  larger 
liberty  than  we  now  have.  The  world  does  not  stand 
still.  I  do  not  know  what  Almighty  God  has  been 
reserving  this  Western  world  for  through  all  the  ages  ; 
but  it  must  be  for  some  gTand  purpose.  It  is  a  great 
land  and  it  will  be  peopled  some  day.  We  have  made 
our  laws  in  the  past,  and  we  shall  not  surrender  our 
right  to  do  so.  The  king  and  his  ministers  are  not 
using  the  crosses  of  St.  George  and  St.  Andrew  for 
the  good  of  all.  The  crosses  should  represent  brother- 
hood, but  they  do  not.  I  think  the  tune  may  come, 
though,  when  there  wUl  be  such  a  flag." 

Again  he  paused,  and  again  Miss  Newville  begged 
him  to  go  on. 


238       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  cannot  tell  when  it  will  be,  but  I  know  what  I 
would  like  to  see." 

"  Please  tell  me,"  she  said  earnestly. 

"  I  woidd  like  to  see  the  time  when  men  will  recog- 
nize their  fellow-men  as  brothers,  and  when  the  flag 
wUl  stand  for  equality,  imity,  liberty,  and  brotherhood." 

"  Do  you  think  such  a  time  will  ever  come  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.  The  prophets  in  the  Bible 
have  predicted  it,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  the  himian 
race  is  advancing  in  that  direction.  Have  you  not 
noticed  that  almost  everj^hing  we  prize  has  come 
through  sacrifice  and  suffermg?  I  came  here  with 
food  because  the  people  of  this  town  are  suffering. 
The  bags  of  corn  which  I  have  brought  are  an  expres- 
sion of  brotherhood,  of  unity,  love,  and  good  will.  The 
people  all  the  way  from  the  Penobscot  to  the  Savannah 
are  acting  from  such  motives.  It  is  curious  that  Par- 
liament by  passing  a  wicked  law  is  uniting  the  Colo- 
nies as  nothing  else  could  have  done.  What  the  king 
designed  for  a  punishment,  in  the  end  may  be  a  great 
blessing." 

"  I  see  it,  and  I  want  to  thank  you,  Mr.  Walden, 
for  your  words.  You  have  made  clear  what  hithei-to 
I  have  not  been  able  to  understand.  Of  course,  you 
must  be  aware  that  I  hear  many  conversations  upon 
affairs  in  the  Colonies.  General  Gage  and  Earl 
Percy  are  frequent  guests  in  our  home,  as  are  many 
gentlemen  who  sympathize  with  the  king  and  the 
ministry  rather  than  with  Mr.  Adams  and  Doctor 
Warren.  I  do  not  see  how  the  king,  who  they  say 
is  kmd-hearted,  could  assent  to  a  law  which  woidd 
bring  suffering  and  starvation  to  so  many  people." 


BENEVOLENCE  AND  BROTHERHOOD.      239 

She  sat  iu  silence  a  moment,  and  then  went  on. 

"  I  like  to  hear  you,  Mr.  Walden,  speak  of  that 
good  time  that  is  to  come.  I  should  like  to  do  some- 
thing to  hasten  it.  I  feel  that  I  am  stronger  for  what 
you  have  said.  Shall  we  take  a  stroll  through  the 
gi-oimds  ?  " 

Through  the  day  he  had  been  looking  forward  to  a 
possible  hour  when  he  could  be  with  her  alone,  to 
feel  the  charm  of  her  presence.  And  now  that  it^ad 
come,  what  should  he  say,  how  let  her  know  she  had 
been  an  inspiration  to  hmi ;  how  since  their  fii-st  meet- 
ing his  last  thought  at  night  and  the  first  of  the 
morning  had  been  of  her?  Were  he  to  say  the  thought 
of  her  had  filled  the  days  with  happiness,  would  she 
not  think  him  presumptuous  ?  They  were  widely 
separated  by  the  circumstances  of  life,  —  he  of  the 
country,  a  farmer,  swinging  the  scythe,  holding  the 
plow,  driving  oxen,  feeding  pigs  ;  she,  on  the  contrary, 
was  a  star  in  cultured  society,  entertaining  high-born 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  lords,  earls,  and  governors ; 
chance,  only,  had  made  them  acquainted.  She  had 
been  very  kind.  No,  he  must  not  presimie  upon  her 
graciousness  and  teU.  her  that  his  heart  had  gone  out 
to  her  in  a  wonderful  way.  Many  men  had  proffered 
their  love,  but  had  been  rejected.  It  was  blessedness 
unspeakable  to  be  permitted  to  walk  by  her  side,  to 
hear  her  voice,  to  enjoy  her  esteem,  friendship,  and 
confidence. 

The  song-birds  of  summer  had  gone,  but  the  crickets 
were  merrily  chirping  around  them ;  flowers  were  fad- 
ing, but  fruits  were  ripening.  Slowly  they  walked 
the  winding  paths,  stopping  at  times  to  gaze  upon  the 


240       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

clouds,  silver-lined,  in  the  bright  light  of  the  full-orbed 
moon. 

"I  shaU  not  soon  forget  this  quiet  evening  with 
you,  Mr.  Walden,  nor  the  words  you  have  spoken.  I 
have  thought  it  was  my  foreboding,  but  now  I  can  see 
that  there  may  be  trying  times  before  us,  —  times 
which  will  test  friendships." 

"  I  trust.  Miss  Newville,  that  I  may  ever  be  worthy 
to  l^e  numbered  among  your  friends." 

"  I  know  you  will."  After  a  moment's  hesitation 
she  added,  "  The  time  may  come  when  I  shall  need 
your  friendship." 

Her  voice  was  tremidous.  The  nine  o'clock  bell 
was  ringing.  They  were  by  the  gate  leading  to  the 
street. 

"  You  go  home  to-morrow.  Will  it  be  long  before 
we  shall  see  you  again  ?  I  may  want  such  strength 
as  you  can  give,"  she  said. 

"  I  trust  that  in  God's  good  time  we  may  meet 
again.  How  soon  I  may  be  here  or  what  may  bring 
me  I  do  not  foresee ;  but  be  assured.  Miss  Newville, 
I  shall  ever  be  your  friend." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.     Good-by,"  she  said. 

She  heard  his  retreating  footsteps  growing  fainter. 

"  Oh,  if  he  had  only  said, '  I  love  you,'  "  the  whispei 
on  her  lips. 

"  I  could  die  for  her ;  no,  I  '11  live  for  her,"  he 
said  to  himseK,  as  he  walked  towards  the  Brandon 
home. 


XV. 

THE    MIDNIGHT    RIDE. 

Abel  Shrimpton,  loyal  to  the  king,  hated  Samuel 
Adams  and  John  Hancock  and  the  Sons  of  Liberty, 
holding  them  responsible  for  the  troubles  that  had 
come  to  the  people.  In  Mr.  Shrimpton's  attractive 
home,  made  beautiful  by  the  presence  of  his  daugh- 
ter, Tom  Brandon  had  been  a  welcome  visitor,  but 
the  relations  between  Mr.  Shrimpton  and  Tom  were 
changing. 

"  The  Regulation  Act,"  said  Tom,  "  which  in  fact 
makes  the  king  the  government,  deprives  the  people 
of  their  liberties." 

"  People  who  abuse  their  liberties  ought  to  be  de- 
prived of  them,"  Mr.  Shrimpton  replied. 

"  We  are  not  allowed  to  select  jurors.  The  law 
takes  away  our  right  to  assemble  in  town  meeting,  ex- 
cept by  permission,  and  then  we  can  only  elect  select- 
men to  look  after  town  affairs,"  said  Tom. 

"  The  people  have  shown  they  are  not  fit  to  govern 
themselves,"  said  Mr.  Shrimpton.  "  They  allow  the 
mob  to  run  riot.  It  was  a  mob  that  smashed  Chief 
Justice  Hutchinson's  windows.  Your  gatherings  un- 
der the  Liberty  Tree  are  in  reality  nothing  but  mobs  ; 
you  have  no  legal  authority  for  assembling.  It  was 
a  mob  that  assaulted  the  king's  troops  on  the  5th  of 


242       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION, 

March ;  a  mob  threw  the  tea  into  the  harbor,  and  I 
strongly  suspect  that  Tom  Brandon  had  a  hand  in 
that  ini(]Luity.  The  king  stands  for  law  and  order. 
The  troops  are  here  in  the  interest  of  good  govern- 
ment, by  constituted  authority,  to  enforce  the  law  and 
put  down  riots." 

"  Just  who  had  a  hand  in  throwing  the  tea  over- 
Ijoard  no  one  can  find  out,  but  I  am  glad  it  was 
done,"  said  Tom, 

"  So  you  uphold  lawlessness,  Mr.  Brandon  ?  " 

"  I  stand  against  the  unrighteous  acts  of  Parlia- 
ment. We  will  not  be  slaves  ;  we  will  not  be  de- 
prived of  our  liberties.  If  King  George  and  Lord 
North  think  they  can  starve  the  people  of  this  town 
into  submission,  they  wall  find  themselves  mistaken," 
said  Tom. 

"  I  hope  he  will  compel  every  one  of  you  to  obey 
the  laws,  and  that  whoever  had  a  hand  in  destroying 
the  tea  will  suffer  for  it,"  Mr.  Shrimp  ton  replied. 

Tom  saw  the  smile  fade  from  the  countenance  of 
Mary  as  she  listened  to  the  conversation.  Her 
quick  insight,  and  acquaintance  with  her  father's 
surly  temper,  enabled  her  to  see  what  was  withholden 
from  Tom's  slower  perception. 

'•  Mary,"  said  ^Ir.  Shrimpton,  after  Tom  took  his 
departure,  '"  I  want  you  to  stop  having  an}i;hing  to  do 
with  Tom." 

"Why,  father?" 

"  Because  I  don't  like  him." 

"  But  I  do  like  him." 

"  No  matter.  He 's  an  enemy  to  the  king.  I 
have  gfood  reason  to  believe  he  had  a  hand  in  throw- 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  243 

ing  the  tea  overboard.  If  he  did,  he  is  no  better 
than  a  thief.  He  willfully,  wantonly,  and  with 
malice  aforethought  stole  the  property  of  others  from 
the  holds  of  the  ships,  and  destroyed  it.  It  was  bur- 
glary —  breaking  and  entering.  It  was  a  malicious 
destruction  of  property  of  the  East  India  Company. 
It  was  a  heinous  affair  —  not  mere  larceny  to  be 
punished  by  standing  in  the  pillory,  or  sitting  in  the 
stocks,  or  tied  up  to  the  whipping-post  and  flogged, 
but  an  offense  which,  if  it  could  be  proved,  would 
send  every  one  of  the  marauders  to  jail  for  ten  or 
twenty  years.  Now  I  don't  want  the  name  of 
Shrimpton  mixed  up  with  that  of  Brandon.  So  you 
can  cut  Tom  adrift." 

"  But,  father  "  — 

"  I  don't  want  any  buts.  You  wiU  do  as  I  tell 
you  if  you  know  what  is  good  for  yourself." 

"  Have  you  not,  father,  said  in  the  past  that  he 
was  an  estimable  young  man  ?  " 

"  But  he  is  not  estimable  now.  He  meets  others 
in  secret  to  plot  mischief.  I  have  had  spies  on  his 
track.  He  is  a  lawbreaker,  a  mischief-maker,  and 
sooner  or  later  wiU  be  in  jail,  and  possibly  may  be 
brought  to  the  gallows.  Now,  once  for  all,  I  teU  you 
I  will  not  have  him  coming  here." 

Mr.  Shrimpton  said  it  with  a  flushed  face,  setting 
his  teeth  firmly  together  as  he  rose  from  his  chair. 

"  Very  well,  father,"  said  Mary,  wiping  the  tears 
from  her  eyes. 

She  knew  how  irascible  he  was  at  times,  —  how  he 
allowed  his  anger  to  master  reason,  and  hoped  it 
might  pass  away.     Through  the  night  the  words  were 


244       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

repeating  themselves.  What  course  should  she  pur- 
sue ?  Give  up  Tom  ?  What  if  he  did  help  destroy 
the  tea;  was  it  not  a  righteous  protest  against  the 
tyranny  of  the  king  and  Parliament  ?  He  did  not  do 
it  as  an  individual,  but  as  a  member  of  the  commu- 
nity ;  it  was  the  only  course  for  them  to  pursue. 
Tom  was  not  therefore  a  thief  at  heart.  Was  he 
not  kind-hearted  ?  Was  he  not  giving  his  time  and 
strength  to  relieve  suffering?  Had  he  not  just  as 
much  right  to  stand  resolutely  for  the  liberties  of 
the  people  as  her  father  for  the  prerogatives  of  the 
king?  Must  she  stop  seeing  him  to  please  her 
father  ?  It  would  not  be  pleasant  to  have  Tom  call 
upon  her,  and  have  her  father  shut  the  door  in  his 
face ;  that  would  be  an  indignity.  Should  she  with- 
draw her  engagement?  Should  she  plunge  a  knife 
into  her  oAvn  heart  to  please  her  father?  Never. 
Come  what  would,  she  would  be  true  to  Tom.  She 
would  not  anger  her  father  by  inviting  Tom  to  con- 
tinue his  visits,  but  there  were  the  elms  of  Long 
Acre,  Beacon  Hill,  the  market,  and  other  places, 
where  from  time  to  time  they  might  meet  for  a  few 
moments.     True  love  could  wait  for  better  days. 

There  came  a  morning  when  the  people  saw  a 
handbill  posted  upon  the  walls  which  said  that  the 
men  who  were  misleading  the  people  were  bankrupt 
in  purse  and  character.  Tom  Brandon's  blood  was 
at  fever  heat  as  he  read  the  closing  words  :  — 

"  Ask  pardon  of  God,  submit  to  our  king  and 
Parliament,  whom  we  have  wickedly  and  grievously 
offended.  Let  us  seize  our  seducers,  make  peace 
with  our  mother  country,  and  save  ourselves  and 
children."' 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  245 

He  knew  that  the  sentiments  of  the  handbill  were 
those  of  Mr.  Shrimpton,  and  suspected  that  his  hand 
had  penned  it.  The  rumor  was  abroad  that  the  king 
had  sent  word  to  General  Gage  to  seize  the  two 
arch  leaders  of  the  rebels,  Adams  and  Hancock. 
The  following  evening  Tom  and  other  Sons  gathered 
at  the  Green  Dragon,  laid  their  hands  upon  the  Bible, 
and  made  a  solemn  oath  to  watch  constantly  the  move- 
ments of  the  Tories  and  soldiers,  and  give  information 
to  Samuel  Adams,  John  Hancock,  Doctor  Warren, 
and  Benjamin  Church,  and  to  no  others. 

There  came  a  day  when  a  great  multitude  assembled 
in  town  meeting,  in  the  Old  South  Meetinghouse,  to 
listen  to  Doctor  Warren's  oration  commemorative  of 
the  massacre  of  the  people  by  the  troops.  Citizens 
from  all  the  surrounding  to\vns  were  there  to  let  Gen- 
eral Gage  know  they  had  not  forgotten  it ;  besides, 
they  knew  they  would  hear  burning  words  from  the 
lips  of  the  fearless  patriot. 

Tom  Brandon  and  Abraham  Duncan,  looking  down 
from  the  gallery  upon  the  great  throng,  saw  Samuel 
Adams  elected  moderator.  He  invited  the  officers  of 
the  regiments  to  take  seats  upon  the  platform.  Tom 
wondered  if  they  were  present  to  make  mischief. 
The  pidpit  was  draped  in  black.  Every  part  of  the 
house  was  filled,  —  aisles,  windows,  seats,  —  and  there 
was  a  great  crowd  in  the  porches.  Tom  was  won- 
dering if  it  woidd  be  possible  for  Doctor  Warren 
to  edge  his  way  tlu'ough  the  solid  body  of  men,  when 
he  saw  the  window  behind  the  pulpit  opened  by  one 
of  the  selectmen  and  the  doctor,  wearing  a  student's 
black  gown,  enter  tlirough  the  window.     The  audience 


246       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

welcomed  him  with  applause.  For  more  than  an  hour 
they  listened  spellbound  to  his  patriotic  and  fearless 
words.  At  times  the  people  made  the  building  shake 
with  their  applause.  Some  of  the  king's  officers  grew 
red  in  the  face  when  he  alluded  to  their  presence 
in  Boston  to  suppress  the  liberties  of  the  people. 
One  of  the  officers  of  the  Welsh  Fusileers  sitting 
on  the  stairs  was  very  insulting.  Tom  saw  him  take 
some  bidlets  from  his  pocket  and  hold  them  in  the 
palm  of  his  hand  to  annoy  Doctor  Warren,  but  instead 
of  being  frightened,  he  very  quietly  rebuked  the  offi- 
cer's insolence  by  letting  his  handkerchief  drop  upon 
the  bullets.    Bold  and  eloquent  were  his  closing  words. 

"  Fellow-citizens,"  he  said,  "  you  will  maintain 
your  rights  or  perish  in  the  glorious  struggle.  How- 
ever difficult  the  combat,  you  will  never  decUne  it 
when  freedom  is  the  prize.  Independence  of  Great 
Britain  is  not  our  aim.  Our  wish  is  that  Britain  and 
the  Colonies  may,  like  the  oak  and  the  ivy,  grow  and 
increase  in  strength  together.  If  pacific  measures  fail, 
and  it  appears  that  the  only  way  to  safety  is  through 
fields  of  blood,  I  know  you  will  not  turn  your  faces 
from  your  foes,  but  will  press  forward  till  tyranny  is 
trodden  under  foot  and  you  have  placed  your  adored 
goddess  Liberty  on  her  American  throne." 

The  buildmg  shook  with  applause  when  he  sat  down. 

"  It  is  moved  that  the  thanks  of  the  town  be  pre- 
sented to  Doctor  Warren  for  his  oration,"  said  the 
moderator. 

•'  Xo,  no  I  fie,  fie  I  "'  shouted  a  captain  of  the  Royal 
Irish  Regiment,  and  the  other  officers  around  thumped 
the  floor  with  their  canes. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  247 

Tom's  blood  was  hot,  as  was  the  blood  of  those 
around  him.  Some  of  the  people  under  the  galleries, 
who  coidd  not  see  what  was  going  on,  thought  the  offi- 
cers were  crying  fire,  to  break  up  the  meeting.  Very 
quietly  Samuel  Adams  raised  his  hand.  The  people 
became  calm.  The  officers  left  the  building,  and  the 
town  went  on  with  its  business.  The  people  were 
learning  seK-control. 

When  the  meeting  was  over,  Tom  and  Abraham 
walked  along  Cornhill,  and  turned  down  King  Street 
on  their  way  home.  They  saw  a  crowd  around  the 
British  Coffee  House  tavern,  —  the  officers  who  a  little 
while  before  had  left  the  Old  South  Meetinghouse, 
laughing,  talking,  and  drinking  their  toddy.  Tom 
soon  discovered  they  were  having  a  mock  town  meeting. 
One  was  acting  as  moderator,  pounding  with  his  cane 
and  calling  them  to  order.  They  chose  seven  select- 
men and  a  clerk.  Then  one  went  upstairs  and  soon  ap- 
peared upon  the  balcony  wearing  a  rusty  and  ragged  old 
black  gown,  a  gray  wig  with  a  fox's  tail  dangling  down 
his  back.  He  bowed  to  those  below,  and  began  a  mock 
oration.  He  called  Samuel  Adams,  Doctor  Warren, 
and  John  Hancock  scoundrels,  blackguards,  knaves, 
and  other  vile  names.  His  language  was  so  scurrilous, 
profane,  and  indecent  that  Tom  could  not  repeat  it 
to  his  mother  and  Berinthia.  Those  who  listened 
clapped  their  hands.  Tom  and  Abraham  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  most  of  the  officers  of  the  newly  ar- 
rived regiments  were  too  vile  to  be  worthy  the  society 
of  decent  people. 

Tom  was  boiling  hot  two  nights  later,  at  the  treat- 
ment given  Thomas  Ditson  of  Billerica,  who  had  come 


248       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

to  market.  A  soldier  persuaded  the  gaiileless  young 
farmer  to  buy  an  old  worn-out  gun.  The  next  moment 
he  was  seized  by  a  file  of  soldiers  and  thrust  into  the 
guardhouse  for  buying  anything  of  a  soldier  against 
the  law.  He  had  only  the  bare  floor  to  sleep  on.  In 
the  morning,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Nesbit  ordered  the 
soldiers  to  strip  oif  Ditson's  clothes,  and  tar  and 
feather  him. 

It  was  a  pitiful  spectacle  which  Ruth  Newville  saw, 
—  Colonel  Nesbit  marching  at  the  head  of  his  regi- 
ment, the  soldiers  with  their  bayonets  surrounding  a 
man  stripped  to  the  waist,  smeared  with  tar,  covered 
^\'ith  feathers,  the  fifes  playing,  and  the  di-ums  beating 
the  Rogue's  March. 

"It  is  disgraceful,"  she  said,  with  flashing  eyes,  to 
her  mother.  "  Colonel  Nesbit  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
himself.  If  he  ever  calls  here  again,  I  '11  not  speak 
to  him." 

Fast  Day  came,  and  again  the  eyes  of  Miss  New- 
ville flashed  when  she  saw  the  king's  troops  parading 
the  streets ;  the  drummers  and  fif ers  taking  their  sta- 
tions by  the  doors  of  the  meetinghouses  to  annoy  the 
people,  plajang  so  loud  they  could  scarcely  hear  a 
word  of  what  the  minister  was  saying. 

"  Do  you  think,  father,  that  General  Gage  will  win 
back  the  affections  of  the  people,  or  even  retain  their 
respect  by  permitting  such  outrages  ?  "  Ruth  asked. 

"•  Perhaps  it  is  not  the  wisest  course  to  pursue. 
Quite  likely  the  officers  of  the  regiments  did  it  of  their 
own  notion,"  Mr.  Newville  replied. 

If  L(n'd  North  and  King  George  thought  a  show 
of  military  force  noiild  overawe  the  people  of  Boston 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  249 

town,  they  were  mistaken.  Possibly  they  did  not 
reflect  that  military  repression  might  beget  resistance 
by  arms ;  but  when  the  regiments  began  to  arrive,  the 
Sons  of  Liberty  resolved  to  prepare  for  whatever 
might  happen.  They  appointed  a  committee  of  safety 
to  protect  the  rights  of  the  people. 

Winter  was  over,  and  with  their  singing  the  birds 
were  making  the  April  mornings  melodious.  The 
Provmcial  Congress  was  m  session  at  Cambridge,  and 
Samuel  Adams  and  John  Hancock  had  left  Boston 
and  with  Dorothy  Quincy  were  with  Reverend  Mr. 
Clark  in  Lexington.  Abraham  Duncan  discovered 
that  General  Gage  had  sent  Captain  Brown  and  En- 
sign De  Berniere  into  the  country  to  see  the  roads.^ 
Sharp-eyed  Sons  of  Liberty  watched  the  movements 
of  the  soldiers.  They  saw  Lord  Percy  march  his  bri- 
gade to  Roxbury,  and  return  as  if  for  exercise,  with 
no  one  opposing  them. 

"  We  can  march  from  one  end  of  the  continent  to 
the  other,  without  opposition  from  the  cowardly  Yan- 
kees," said  the  boasting  soldiers. 

Paul  Revere,  Tom  Brandon,  Robert  Newman,  and 
a  score  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty  were  keeping  watch  of 
the  movements  of  the  redcoats.  They  saw  the  sail- 
ors of  the  warships,  and  of  the  vessels  which  had 
brought  the  new  troops,  launching  their  boats  and 
putting  them  in    order.     They  knew  General   Gage 

1  Captain  Brown  and  Ensign  De  Berniere,  March  20,  visited  Con- 
cord and  Worcester  and  intermediate  towns,  dressed  as  citizens.  The 
vigilant  Sons  of  Liberty  were  cognizant  of  all  their  movements  and 
notified  the  patriotic  citizens,  who  had  them  under  surveillance  every 
moment.     Ensign  De  Berniere  has  written  a  narrative  of  the  journey. 


250        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

wanted  to  seize  Samuel  Adams  and  Jolm  Hancock, 
and  quite  likely  the  military  supplies  which  the  com- 
mittee of  safety  had  collected  at  Concord.  Paid  Re- 
vere rode  out  to  Lexington  on  Sunday  to  see  Adams 
and  Hancock,  and  let  them  know  what  was  going  on 
in  Boston. 

"The  launching  of  the  ship's  boat  means  some- 
thing," said  Mr.  Adams.  "  It  looks  as  if  the  troops 
were  going  to  make  a  short  cut  across  Charles  River 
instead  of  marching  over  Roxbury  Neck." 

"  We  will  keep  our  eyes  open  and  let  you  know 
the  moment  they  make  any  movement,"  said  Revere. 

"  Quite  likely  Gage  will  set  a  patrol  so  you  can't 
leave  Boston,"  said  Hancock. 

"  I  '11  tell  ye  what  we  '11  do.  If  the  troops  leave  in 
the  night  by  way  of  Roxbury,  I  '11  get  Robert  Newman 
to  liang  a  lantern  in  the  steeple  of  Christ  Chiu-ch  ;  if 
they  take  boats  to  make  the  short  cut  across  Charles 
River,  I  '11  have  him  hang  out  two  lanterns.  I  '11  tell 
Deacon  Larkin  and  Colonel  Conant,  over  in  Charles- 
town,  to  keep  their  eyes  on  the  steeple." 

It  was  Tuesday  morning,  April  18.  Abraham 
Duncan  wondered  how  it  happened  that  so  many 
British  officers  with  their  overcoats  on  were  mounting 
their  horses  and  riding  out  towards  Roxbury,  not  in  a 
group,  but  singly,  or  two  together,  with  pistols  in 
their  holsters. 

"  A\"e  will  dine  at  Winship's  tavern  in  Cambridge, 
and  then  go  on,"  he  heard  one  say. 

lie  also  noticed  that  the  grenadiers  and  light  infan- 
try guards  were  not  on  duty  as  on  other  days. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  251 

He  hasteiiied  to  inform  Doctor  Warren,  who  sent 
a  messenger  with  a  letter  to  the  committee  of  safety. 

It  was  evening  when  Richard  Devens  and  Abraham 
Watson,  members  of  the  committee  of  safety,  shook 
hands  with  their  fellow  members,  Elbridge  Gerry,  Asa 
Orne,  and  Colonel  Lee  at  Wetherby's,  bade  them 
good-night,  and  stepped  into  their  chaise  to  return  to 
their  homes  in  Charlestown.  The  others  would  spend 
the  night  at  Wetherby's,  a,nd  they  would  all  meet  in 
Woburn  in  the  morning. 

Satisfying  to  the  appetite  was  the  dinner  which 
landlord  Winship  set  before  a  dozen  British  officers,  — 
roast  beef,  dish  gravy,  mealy  potatoes,  plum-pudding, 
mince  pie,  crackers  and  cheese,  prime  old  port,  and 
brandy  distilled  from  the  grapes  of  Bordeaux. 

"  We  will  jog  on  slowly ;  it  won't  do  to  get  there 
too  early,"  said  one  of  the  officers  as  they  mounted 
their  horses  and  rode  up  past  the  green,  and  along 
the  wide  and  level  highways,  towards  Menotomy,  pay- 
ing no  attention  to  Solomon  Brown,  plodding  home- 
ward in  his  horse-cart  from  market.  When  the  old 
mare  lagged  to  a  walk,  they  rode  past  him  ;  when  he 
stirred  her  up  with  his  switch  she  made  the  old  cart 
rattle  past  them.  The  twinkling  eyes  peeping  out 
from  under  his  shaggy  brows  saw  that  their  pistols 
were  in  the  holsters,  and  their  swords  were  clanking 
at  times. 

"  I  passed  nine  of  them,"  he  said  to  Sergeant  Mun- 
roe  when  he  reached  Lexington  Common ;  and  the 
sergeant,  mistrusting  they  might  be  coming  to  nab 
Adams  and  Hancock,  sunmioned  eight  of  his  company 
to  guard  the  house  of  Mr.  Clark. 


252        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Mr.  Devens  and  Mr.  Watson  met  the  Britishers. 

"  They  mean  mischief.  We  must  let  Gerry,  Ome, 
and  Joe  know,"  Mr.  Devens  said.  , 

Quickly  the  chaise  turned,  and  they  rode  back  to 
Wetherby's.  The  moon  was  higher  in  the  eastern  sky, 
and  the  hands  of  the  clock  pointed  to  the  figure  nine 
when  the  officers  rode  past  the  house. 

"  We  must  put  Adams  and  Hancock  on  their 
guard,"  said  Mr.  Gerry ;  and  a  little  later  a  messen- 
ger on  horseback  was  scurrying  along  a  bj'path  to- 
wards Lexington. 

In  Boston,  Abraham  Duncan  was  keeping  his  eyes 
and  ears  open. 

"  What 's  the  news,  Billy  ? "  was  his  question  to 
Billy  Baker,  apprentice  to  Mr.  Hall,  who  sold  toddy 
to  the  redcoats. 

"  I  guess  something  is  going  to  happen,"  said  Billy. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  'Cause  a  woman  who  belongs  to  one  of  the  red- 
coats was  in  just  now  after  a  toddy ;  she  said  the  lob- 
sters were  going  somewhere." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  they  are  jjacking  their  knapsacks." 

Abraham  whispered  it  to  Doctor  Warren,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  William  Dawes  was  mounting  his  old 
mare  and  riding  toward  Eoxbury.  She  was  tliin  in 
flesh,  and  showed  her  ri])s ;  and  the  man  on  her  back, 
who  dressed  calf-skins  for  a  living,  jogged  along  Corn- 
hill  as  if  in  no  liurry.  The  red-coated  sentinels,  keep- 
ing guard  by  the  fortifications  on  the  Xeck,  said  to 
themselves  he  was  an  old  farmer,  but  were  surprised 
to  see  him.  after  passing  them,  going  like  the  wind 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE. 


253 


out  towards  Roxbury,  to  the  Parting  Stone,  then  turn- 
ing towards  Cambridge,  making  the  gravel  fly  from 
her  he^ls  as  she  tore  along  the  road. 


Berinthia  Brandon,  sitting  in  her  chamber,  looking 
out  into  the  starlit  night,  saw  the  faint  light  of  the 
rising  moon  along 
the  eastern  horizon. 
T\valight  was  still 
lingering  in  the 
western  sky.  In  the 
gloaming,  she  saw 
the  sailors  of  the 
warships  and  trans- 
ports were  stepping 
into  their  boats  and 
floating  with  the  in- 
coming tide  up  the 
Charles.  What  was 
the  meaning  of  it? 
She  ran  downstairs 
and  told  her  father 
and  Tom  what  she 
had  seen  ;  and  Tom, 
seizing  his  hat,  tore  along  Salem  Street  and  over  the 
bridge  across  MiU  Creek  to  Doctor  Warren's.  The 
clock  on  the  Old  Brick  Meetinghouse  was  striking  ten 
when  he  rattled  the  knocker. 

"  The  boats  are  on  their  way  up  the  river  with  the 
tide,"  he  said,  out  of  breath  with  his  running. 

Abraham  Duncan  came  in,  also  out  of  breath. 

"  The  lobsters  are  marching  across   the  Common, 
toward  Barton's  Point,"'  he  said. 


citO- 


Paul  Revere's  House. 


254       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  All  of  which  means,  they  are  going  to  take  the 
boats  and  cross  Charles  River,  instead  of  marching  by 
way  of  Roxbury,"  said  the  doctor,  reflecting  a  moment. 

He  asked  Tom  if  he  would  please  rim  down  to  North 
Square  and  ask  Paid  Revere  to  come  and  see  him. 

A  few  minutes  later  Revere  was  there. 

"  I  've  already  sent  Dawes,  but  for  fear  Gage's 
spies  may  pick  him  up,  I  want  you  to  take  the  short 
cut  to  Lexington  and  alarm  people  on  your  way; 
you'll  have  to  look  sharp  for  Gage's  officers.  TeU 
Newman  to  hang  out  the  two  signals." 

Revere  hastened  down  Salem  Street,  whispered  a 
word  in  the  ear  of  Robert  Newman,  ran  to  his  own 
home  for  his  overcoat,  told  two  young  men  to  accom- 
pany him,  then  ran  to  the  riverside  and  stepped  into 
his  boat.  The  gi*eat  black  hull  of  the  frigate  Somerset 
rose  before  him.  By  the  light  of  the  rising  moon  he 
could  see  a  marine,  with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder, 
pacing  the  deck;  but  no  challenge  came,  and  the 
rowers  quickly  landed  him  in  Charlestown.^ 

^  In  the  Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn,  the  poet  Longfellow  represents 
Paul  Revere  as  impatiently  waiting  beside  his  horse,  on  the  Charles- 
town  shore,  for  the  signal  lights :  — 

"  On  the  opposite  shore  walked  Paul  Revere. 

Now  he  patted  his  horse's  side, 

Now  gazed  at  the  landscape  far  and  near, 

Then,  impetuous,  stamped  the  earth. 

And  turned  and  tightened  his  saddle-girtli ; 

But  mostly  watched  with  eager  search 

Tlie  belfry  tower  of  the  Old  North  Church, 

As  it  rose  above  the  graves  on  the  hill, 

Lonely  and  spectral  and  sombre  and  still. 

And  lo  !  as  he  looks,  on  the  belfry  height 

A  glimmer,  and  tlien  a  gleam  of  light ! 

He  springs  to  the  saddle,  the  bridle  he  turns, 

But  lingers  and  gazes,  till  full  on  his  sight 

A  second  lamp  in  tlie  belfry  burns  !  " 

From  the  narrative  of  Paul  Revere  in  the  archives  of  the  Massachu. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  255 

Kobert  Newman,  sexton,  had  gone  to  bed.  The  offi- 
cers of  one  of  the  kuig's  regiments,  occupying  the  front 
chamber,  saw  him  retire,  but  did  not  see  him  a  mm- 
ute  later  crawl  out  of  a  window  to  the  roof  of  a  shed, 
drop  lightly  to  the  ground,  make  his  way  to  the  church, 
enter,  turn  the  key,  lock  the  door,  climb  the  stairs  to 
the  tower,  and  hang  the  lanterns  in  the  loft  above 
the  bell.  It  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment.  Hav- 
ing done  it,  he  hastened  down  the  stairway,  past  the 
organ,  to  the  floor  of  the  church.  The  full  moon  was 
flooding  the  arches  above  liim  with  its  mellow  light ; 
but  he  did  not  tarry  to  behold  the  beauty  of  the  scene ; 
not  that  he  feared  ghosts  would  rise  from  the  coffins 
in  the  crjrpt  beneath  the  church,  —  he  was  not  afraid 
of  dead  men,  —  but  he  would  rather  the  redcoats 
should  not  know  what  he  had  been  doing.  He  raised 
a  window,  dropped  from  it  to  the  groimd,  ran  down 
an  alley,  reached  his  house,  climbed  the  shed,  and 
was  in  bed  when  officers  of  one  of  the  regiments  came 
to  make  inquiry  about  the  lanterns.  Of  course,  Rob- 
ert, being  in  bed,  could  not  have  hung  them  there. 
It  must  have  been  done  by  somebody  else.^ 

setts  Historical  Society,  we  leam  that  the  signals  were  seen  before 
he  reached  the  Charlestown  shore  :  — 

"  When  I  got  into  town,  I  met  Colonel  Conant  and  several  others  ; 
they  said  they  had  seen  our  signals ;  I  told  them  what  was  acting, 
and  I  went  to  get  me  a  horse ;  I  got  a  horse  of  Deacon  Larkin. 
Wliile  the  horse  was  preparing,  Richard  Devens,  Esq.,  who  was  one 
of  the  Committee  of  Safety,  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  he  came 
down  the  road  from  Lexington  after  sundown,  that  evening ;  that  he 
met  ten  British  officers,  all  well  mounted  and  armed,  going  up  the 
road." 

^  Paul  Revere  in  his  narrative  says  "  a  friend  "  made  the  signals. 
It  has  been  claimed  that  Jolin  Pulling,  and  not  Robert  Newman, 
hujig  the  lantei-ns.     The  evidence   favoring  Newman  and  Pulling  is 


256       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Paul  Revere  the  while  is  flying  up  Main  Street 
towards  Charlestown  Neck.  It  is  a  pleasant  night. 
The  gi'ass  in  the  fields  is  fresh  and  gi-een ;  the  trees 
above  hiin  are  putting  forth  then*  young  and  tender 
leaves.  He  is  thinking  of  what  Richard  Devens  has 
said,  and  keeps  his  eyes  open.  He  crosses  the  narrow 
neck  of  land  between  the  Mystic  and  Charles  rivers, 
and  sees  before  him  the  tree  where  Mark  was  hung 
ten  years  before  for  poisoning  his  master.  The  bones 
of  the  negro  no  longer  rattle  in  the  wind ;  the  eyeless 
sockets  of  the  once  ghostly  skeleton  no  longer  glai-e 
at  people  coming  from  Cambridge  and  Medford  to 
Charlestown,  and  Paul  Revere  has  no  fear  of  seeing 
Mark's  ghost  hovering  around  the  tree.  It  is  for  the 
living  —  Gage's  spies  —  that  he  peers  into  the  night. 
Bucephalus  suddenly  pricks  up  his  ears.  Ah  I  there 
they  are!  two  men  in  uniform  on  horseback  beneath 
the  tree.  He  is  abreast  of  them.  They  advance. 
Quickly  he  wheels,  and  rides  back  towards  Charles- 
to^\^l.  He  reaches  the  road  leading  to  Medford,  reins 
Bucephalus  into  it.  He  sees  one  of  them  riding 
across  the  field  to  cut  him  off ;  the  other  is  follow- 
ing him  along  the  road.  Suddenly  the  rider  in  the 
field  disappears,  —  going  head  foremost  into  a  clay 
pit.  "  Ha  I  ha  !  '"  laughs  Revere,  as  the  fleet  steed 
bears  him  on  towards    ISIedford   towai.     He  clatters 


in  each  case  circumstantial.  Both  were  Sons  of  Liberty  and  intimate 
with  Revere.  Newman  was  sexton  in  possession  of  the  keys  of  the 
church.  It  is  said  that  Pulling  obtained  them  ;  that  the  suspicion 
was  so  strong-  ag-ainst  him  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  town  secretly, 
not  daring  to  apply  for  a  pass.  Newman  was  arrested,  but  General 
Gage  could  find  no  direct  evidence  against  him.  I  have  followed  the 
generally  accepted  opinion,  favoring  Newman. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE.  257 

across  Mystic  bridge,  halts  long  enough  to  awaken 
the  captain  of  the  minute-men,  and  then  rattles  on 
towards  Menotomy.i 

It  is  past  eleven  o'clock.  The  fires  have  been  cov- 
ered for  the  night  in  the  farmhouses,  and  the  people 
are  asleep. 

"  Turn  out !  turn  out !  the  redcoats  are  coming !  " 

Paul  Revere  is  shouting  it  at  every  door,  as  Bu- 
cephalus bears  him  swiftly  on.  The  farmers  spring 
from  their  beds,  peer  through  their  window-panes  into 
the  darkness,  —  seeing  a  vanishing  form,  and  flashing- 
sparks  struck  from  the  stones  by  the  hoofs  of  the 
flying  horse.  Once  more  across  the  Mystic  on  to 
Menotomy,  past  the  meetinghouse  and  the  houses  of 
the  slumbering  people,  up  the  hill,  along  the  valley, 
to  Lexington  Green ;  past  the  meetinghouse,  not  halt- 
ing at  Buckman's  tavern,  but  pushing  on,  leaping  from 
his  foaming  steed  and  rapping  upon  Mr.  Clark's  door. 

"  Who  are  ye,  and  what  d'  ye  want  ?  "  Sergeant 
Munroe  asked  the  question. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Hancock." 

"  Well,  you  can't.  The  minister  and  his  family 
nmstn't  be  disturbed,  so  just  keep  stiU  and  don't 
make  a  racket." 

1  "  After  I  passed  Charlestown  Neck,  and  got  nearly  opposite  where 
Mark  was  hung  in  chains,  I  saw  two  men  on  horseback  under  the  tree. 
When  I  got  near  them  I  discovered  they  were  British  officers.  One 
tried  to  get  ahead  of  me,  and  the  other  to  take  me.  I  tiimed  my 
horee  quick  and  galloped  towards  Charlestown  Neck,  and  then  pushed 
for  the  Medf ord  road.  The  one  who  chased  me,  endeavoring  to  cut 
me  off,  got  into  a  clay  pond.  I  got  clear  of  him  and  went  through 
Medford  over  the  bridge  up  to  Menotomy.  In  Medford  I  awaked  the 
captain  of  the  minute-men,  and  after  that  I  alarmed  every  house  till  I 
got  to  Lexington."'  —  Revere's  Narrative. 


258       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  There  '11  be  a  racket  pretty  soon,  for  the  redcoats 
are  coming,"  said  Paul. 

"Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  wish?"  asked 
Reverend  Mr.  Clark  in  his  night-dress  from  the  win- 
dow. 

"  I  want  to  see  Adams  and  Hancock." 

"It  is  Revere ;  let  him  in !  "  shouted  Hancock 
down  the  stairway. 

"  The  regulars  are  coming,  several  hundred  of  them, 
to  seize  you  !  " 

"  It  is  the  supplies  at  Concord  they  are  after,"  cried 
Mr.  Adams. 

A  moment  later  other  hoofs  were  striking  fire  from 
the  stones,  and  another  horseman,  William  Dawes,  ap- 
peared, confirming  what  Revere  had  said. 


o< 


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•— >    '-I 

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XVI. 

THE  MORNING  DRUMBEAT. 

"Ring  the  beU!" 

Samuel  Adams  said  it,  and  one  of  Sergeant  Munroe's 
men  ran  to  the  green,  seized  the  bell-rope,  and  set  the 
meetinghouse  bell  to  clanging,  sending  the  alarm  far 
and  wide  upon  the  still  night  air. 

In  the  farmhouses  candles  were  quickly  lighted, 
and  the  minute-men,  who  had  agreed  to  obey  a  sum- 
mons at  a  moment's  warning,  came  running  with  mus- 
ket, bullet-pouch,  and  powder-horn,  to  the  rendezvous. 
They  formed  in  line,  but,  no  redcoats  appearing,  broke 
ranks  and  went  into  Buckman's  tavern. 

Silently,  without  tap  of  drum,  the  grenadiers  and 
light  infantry  under  Colonel  Francis  Smith,  at  mid- 
night, marched  from  their  quarters  to  Barton's  Point, 
together  with  the  marines  under  Major  Pitcaim. 

"  ^\Tiere  are  we  going  ?  "  Lieutenant  Edward  Gould 
of  the  King's  0\vn  put  the  question  to  Captain 
Lawiie. 

"  I  suppose  General  Gage  and  the  Lord,  and  per- 
haps Colonel  Smith,  know,  but  I  don't,"  the  caj)tain 
replied,  as  he  stepped  into  a  boat  with  his  company. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  when  the  last  boat-load  of 
troops  reached  Lechmere's  Point,  —  not  landing  on 


260         DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

solid  ground,  but  amid  the  last  year's  reeds  and 
marshes.  The  tide  was  flowing  into  the  creek  and 
eddies,  and  the  mud  beneath  the  feet  of  the  king's 
troops  was  soft  and  slippery. 

"May  his  satanic  majesty  take  the  man  who  or- 
dered us  into  this  bog,"  said  a  soldier  whose  feet  sud- 
denly went  out  from  under  him  and  sent  him  sprawl- 
ing into  the  slimy  oose. 

"  By  holy  Saint  Patrick,  is  n't  the  water  nice  and 
warm  !  "  said  one  of  the  marines  as  he  waded  into  the 
flowing  tide  fresh  from  the  sea. 

"  Gineral  Gage  intends  to  teach  us  how  to  swim," 
said  another. 

With  jokes  upon  their  Ups,  but  inwardly  cursing 
whoever  had  directed  them  to  march  across  the  marsh, 
the  troops  splashed  through  the  water,  reached  the 
main  road  leading  to  Menotomy,  and  waited  while  the 
commissary  distributed  then*  rations.  It  was  past  two 
o'clock  before  Colonel  Smith  was  ready  to  move  on. 
Looking  at  his  watch  in  the  moonlight  and  seeing  how 
late  it  was,  he  directed  Major  Pitcairn  to  take  six 
companies  of  the  light  infantry  and  hasten  on  to 
Lexington. 

From  the  house  of  Reverend  Mr.  Clark,  Paul 
Revere,  William  Dawes,  and  yoimg  Doctor  Prescott  of 
Concord,  who  had  been  sparking  his  intended  wife  in 
Lexington  village,  started  on  their  horses  up  the  road 
towards  Concord.  From  the  deep  shade  of  the  alders 
a  half  dozen  men  suddenly  confronted  them. 

"  Surrender,  or  I  will  blow  out  your  brains ! " 
shouts  one  of  the  officers. 


THE  MORNING  DRUMBEAT.  261 

Revere  and  Dawes  are  prisoners ;  but  Doctor  Pres- 
cott,  quick  of  eye,  ear,  and  motion,  is  leaping  his  horse 
over  the  stone  wall,  riding  through  fields  and  pastures, 
along  bypaths,  his  saddle-bags  flopping,  his  horse, 
young  and  fresh,  bearing  liim  swiftly  on  over  the  mea- 
dows to  the  slmubering  village,  with  the  news  that  the 
redcoats  are  coming.  ^ 

"  Tell  us  where  we  can  find  those  arch  traitors  to 
his  majesty  the  king,  or  you  are  dead  men,"  the  threat 
of  an  officer. 

Paid  Revere  sees  the  muzzle  of  the  pistol  within  a 
foot  of  his  breast,  but  it  does  not  frighten  him. 

"  Ah,  gentlemen,  you  have  missed  yoiu'  aim." 

"What  aim?" 

"  You  won't  get  what  you  came  for.  I  left  Boston 
an  hour  before  your  troops  were  ready  to  cross  Charles 
River.  Messengers  left  before  me,  and  the  alarm  will 
soon  be  fifty  miles  away.  Had  I  not  known  it,  I 
woidd  have  risked  a  shot  from  you  before  allowing 
myself  to  be  captured." 

From  the  belfry  of  the  meetinghouse  the  bell  was 

^  Longfellow  in  his  poem  has  Revere  riding  on  to  Concord  bridge. 

"  It  was  two  by  the  village  clock. 
When  he  came  to  the  bridge  in  Concord  town." 

Revere's  account  reads :  — 

"  We  had  got  nearly  half  way  ;  Mr.  Dawes  and  the  Doctor  stopped 
to  alarm  the  people  of  a  house.  I  was  about  one  hundred  rods  ahead 
when  I  saw  two  men,  in  nearly  the  same  situation  as  those  officers 
were  near  Charlestown.  I  called  for  the  Doctor  and  Dawes  to  come 
up  ;  in  an  instant  I  was  surrounded  by  four.  .  .  .  We  tried  to  get 
out  there  ;  the  Doctor  jumped  his  horse  over  a  low  stone  wall  and  got 
to  Concord.  I  observed  a  wood  at  a  small  distance  and  made  for 
that.  When  I  got  there,  out  rushed  six  officers  on  horseback  and 
ordered  me  to  dismoimt." 


262       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

sending  its  peals  far  and  wide  over  fields  and  wood- 
lands. 

"  Do  you  not  hear  it  ?  The  town  is  alarmed,"  said 
Revere. 

"  Rub-a-dub-dub  I  rub-a-dub-dub  I  rub-a-dub,  i*ub-a- 
dub,  rub-a-dub-dub ! "  It  was  the  druinnier  beating 
the  long  roll. 

"  The  minute-men  are  forming ;  you  are  dead  men !  " 
said  Dawes. 

The  drumbeat,  with  the  clanging  bell,  was  breaking 
the  stiUness  of  the  early  morning.  The  officers  put 
their  heads  together  and  whispered  a  moment. 

"  Get  off  your  horses,"  ordered  Captain  Pai'sons  of 
the  king's  Tenth  Regiment. 

Revere  and  Dawes  obeyed. 

"  We  '11  keep  this ;  the  other  is  only  fit  for  the 
crows  to  pick,"  said  one  of  the  officers,  cutting  the 
saddle-girth  of  Dawes's  horse,  turning  it  loose,  and 
mounting  Buceplialus.  Then  all  rode  away,  dashing 
past  the  minute-men  on  Lexington  Green. 

"  The  minute-men  are  forming,  —  three  hundred  of 
them,"  reported  the  officers  to  Colonel  Smith,  who  was 
marching  up  the  road.^ 

The  bell  and  the  drumbeat,  the  lights  in  Buckman's 
tavern  and  the  other  houses,  the  minute-men  in  line  by 
the  meetinghouse,  had  quickened  the  imagination  of 
the  excited  Britishers. 

"  The  country  is  alarmed.     It  is  reported  there  are 

^  ■■  We  heard  there  were  some  hundreds  of  people  collected  there, 

intendintj  to  oppose  us  and  stop  our  g^oing  out.     At  five  o'clock  we 

amved  there,  and  a  number  of  people,  I  belieA^e  between  two  and 

three  hundred,  formed  on  a   common  in  the  middle  of  the  town." 

•  Diar\  of  a  British  Officer,"  AtJantir  Monthly.  April.  1877- 


THE  MORNING  DRUMBEAT.  263 

five  hundred  rebels  gathered  to  oppose  me.  I  shaU 
need  reinforcements."  Such  was  the  message  of  Colo- 
nel Smith  to  General  Gage. 

He  directed  Major  Pitcairn  to  push  on  rapidly  with 
six  companies  of  light  infantry. 

"  Jonathan  I  Jonathan  !  Get  up  quick !  The  red- 
coats are  coming  and  something  must  be  done  I  "  ^ 

Abigail  Harrington  shouted  it,  bursting  into  her 
son  Jonathan's  chamber.  He  had  not  heard  the  bell, 
nor  the  commotion  in  the  street.  Jonathan  was  oidy 
sixteen  years  old,  but  was  fifer  for  the  minute-men. 
In  a  twinkling  he  was  dressed,  and  seizing  his  fife  ran 
to  join  the  company  forming  in  hne  by  the  meeting- 
house ;  answering  to  their  names,  as  clerk  Daniel 
Harrington  called  the  roll. 

John  Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams  hear  the  dnun- 
beat ;  Hancock  seizes  his  gim. 

"  This  is  no  place  for  you ;  you  must  go  to  a  place 
of  safety,"  said  Reverend  Mr.  Clark. 

"  Never  will  I  turn  my  back  to  the  redcoats,"  said 
Hancock. 

"  The  country  wiU  need  your  counsels.  Others 
must  meet  the  enemy  face  to  face,"  was  the  cahn,  wise 
reply  of  the  patriotic  minister. 

Other  friends  expostidate  ;  they  cross  the  road  and 
enter  a  thick  wood  crowning  the  hill. 

"  Stand  your  ground.  If  war  is  to  come,  let  it  begin 
here.  Don't  fire  till  you  are  fired  upon,"  said  Captain 
John  Parker,  walking  along  the  lines  of  his  company. 

1  There  were  two  Jonathan  Harringtons.  The  fifer  to  the  Lexington 
minute-men  was  sixteen  yeai-s  old.  He  died  March  27,  1854,  the  last 
survivor  of  the  battle,  and  was  buried  with  distinguished  honors.  See 
Hist.  Lexington. 


264       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

The  Sim  is  just  rising.  Its  level  beams  glint  from 
the  brightly  polished  gun-barrels  and  bayonets  of  the 
light  infantry  of  Kmg  George,  as  the  battalion  under 
Major  Pitcairn  marches  towards  Lexington  meeting- 
house. The  trees  above  them  have  put  forth  their 
tender  leaves.  The  rising  sun,  the  green  foliage,  the 
white  cross-belts,  the  shining  buckles,  the  scarlet  coats 
of  the  soldiers,  and  the  farmers  standing  in  line,  firmly 
grasping  their  muskets,  make  up  the  picture  of  the 
morning. 

Major  Pitcairn,  sitting  in  his  saddle,  beholds  the 
line  of  minute-men,  rebels  in  arms  against  the  sover- 
eign, formed  in  line  to  dispute  his  way.  What  right 
have  they  to  be  standing  there?  King  George  is 
supreme  I 

"  Disperse,  you  rebels  I  Lay  down  your  arms  and 
disperse  I  "  he  shouts. 

Captain  John  Parker  hears  it.  The  men  behind 
him,  citizens  in  their  everyday  clothes,  with  powder- 
horns  slung  under  their  right  arms,  hear  it,  but  stand 
firm  and  resolute  in  their  jilaces.  They  see  the 
Britisher  raise  his  arm ;  his  pistol  flashes.  Instantly 
the  front  platoon  of  redcoats  raise  their  muskets.  A 
volley  rends  the  air.  Not  a  man  has  been  injured. 
Another  volley,  and  a  half  dozen  are  reeling  to  the 
ground.  John  Munroe,  Jonas  Parker,  and  their  com- 
rades l)ring  their  muskets  to  a  level  and  pull  the 
triggers.  With  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun  falling 
on  their  faces,  they  accept  the  conflict  with  arbitrary 
power. 

"  What  a  glorious  morning  is  this  I  "  the  exclama- 
tion of  Samuel  Adams  on  yonder  hill. 


THE  MORNING  DRUMBEAT.  265 

Seven  minute-men  have  been  killed,  nine  woimded. 
Captain  Parker  sees  that  it  is  useless  for  his  little 
handful  of  men  to  contend  with  a  force  ten  times 
larger,  and  orders  them  to  disperse. 

The  redcoats  look  down  exultantly  upon  the  dying 
and  the  dead,  give  a  hurrah,  and  shoot  at  the  fleeing 
rebels.! 

Jonas  Parker  will  not  run. 

"  Others  may  do  as  they  will,  I  never  will  turn  my 
back  to  a  redcoat,"  he  said  a  few  minutes  ago.  He 
is  on  his  knees  now,  wounded,  but  reloading  his  gun. 
The  charge  is  rammed  home,  the  priming  in  the  pan, 
but  his  strength  is  going ;  his  arms  are  weary ;  his 
hands  feeble.  The  redcoats  rush  upon  him,  and  a 
bayonet  pierces  his  breast.     He  dies  where  he  fell. 

With  the  blood  spurting  from  his  breast,  Jonathan 
Harrington  staggers  towards  his  home.  His  loving 
wife  is  standing  in  the  doorway.  He  reaches  out  his 
arms  to  her,  and  falls  dead  at  her  feet. 

Caleb  Harrington  falls  by  the  meetinghouse  step. 
A  ball  plows  through  the  arm  of  John  Comee,  by  Mr. 
Munroe's  doorway. 

The  Britishers  are  wild  with  excitement,  and  re- 
morselessly take  aim  at  the  fleeing  provincials.  They 
have  conquered  and  dispersed  the  rebels.  Colonel 
Smith  joins  Major  Pitcaim,  and,  glorying  over  the 
easy  victory,  they  swing  their  hats,  hurrah  for  King 
George,  and  march  on  towards  Concord. 

^  "  We  then  formed  on  the  Common,  but  with  some  difficulty.  The 
men  were  so  wild  they  could  hear  no  orders.  We  waited  a  consider- 
able time,  and  at  len^h  proceeded  on  our  way  to  Concord,  which  we 
then  learned  was  our  destination."  "  Diary  of  a  British  Officer," 
Atlantic  Monthly,  April,  1877. 


XVII. 

BEGINNING    OF    A    NEW    ERA. 

Roger  Stanley,  asleep  in  the  old  farmhouse  on 
the  banks  of  Concord  River,  was  aroused  from  slumber 
by  his  mother. 

"  Roger !  Roger !  the  meetinghouse  bell  is  ringing!  " 
she  shouted  up  the  stairs  to  him. 

With  a  bound  he  was  on  his  feet,  raised  the  window 
and  heard  the  sweet-toned  bell.  He  understood  its 
meaning,  that  the  redcoats  were  coming.  Quickly 
putting  on  his  clothes,  he  seized  the  powder-horn  and 
buUet-pouch  which  his  father  carried  at  Louisburg. 

"  You  must  eat  something,  Roger,  before  jou  go," 
said  his  mother. 

A  moment  later  and  his  breakfast  was  on  the  table, 
bread  and  butter,  a  slice  of  cold  beef,  a  mug  of  cider. 

"  There 's  no  knowing  when  I  shall  be  back,  mother, 
for  if  the  war  has  begun,  as  I  fear  it  has,  I  shall  be 
in  the  ranks  till  the  last  redcoat  is  driven  from  the 
country." 

"  I  know  it,  Roger.  Your  father  would  have  done 
just  what  you  are  doing.  I  know  you  '11  do  your  duty. 
You  won't  show  the  white  feather.  Here  's  some  limch 
for  you,"  she  said,  putting  a  package  into  his  knap- 
sack. 

'^  Good-by." 


w    Z 
2  ^ 


H     I 
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O       -S 


BEGINNING  OF  A  NEW  ERA. 


267 


Her  arms  were  about  his  neck ;  tears  were  on  her 
cheeks  as  she  kissed  his  lips. 

He  ran  across  the  meadow  to  the  village.  The 
minute-men  and  militia  were  gathering.  In  the  still- 
ness of  the  morning  they  could  hear  the  report  of 
guns  far  away,  and  knew  that   they  of   Sudbury  and 

Acton  were  heai-ing 
the  alarm.  People 
were  hurrying  to  and 
fro    in    the    village, 


loading  barrels 
of  flour  into 
carts,  removing 
the  supplies  pur- 
chased by  the 
committee  of 
safety.  Rever- 
end Mr.  Emer- 
son was  there 
with  his  gun  and 
powder  -  horn. 
Many  times 
Roger  had  listened  to  his  preaching.  It  was  gratify- 
ing to  see  him  ready  to  stand  in  the  ranks  mth  his 
parishioners.  He  told  the  women  not  to  be  fright- 
ened, and  smiled  upon  the  boys  who  took  off  their 
hats,  and  the  girls  who  courtesied  to  him. 


Route  of  the   British  to  Concord. 


268        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

They  heard,  far  away,  the  drumbeat  of  the  advan- 
cing: British. 

No  messengers  had  arrived  to  inform  the  minute- 
men  of  Concord  what  had  happened  at  Lexington ; 
for  Doctor  Prescott  did  not  know  that  British  muskets 
had  fired  a  fatal  volley. 

From  the  burial  ground  Roger  could  look  far  down 
the  road  and  see  the  sunlight  glinting  from  the  bayo- 
nets of  the  grenadiers,  as  the  red-coated  platoons 
emerged  from  the  woodland  into  the  open  highway. 

Major  Buttrick  with  the  minute-men  and  Colonel 
Barrett  with  the  militia  formed  in  line  by  the  liberty 
pole. 

"  Prime  and  load !  "  his  order. 

Roger  poured  the  powder  into  the  palm  of  his  hand, 
emptied  it  into  the  gun,  and  rammed  it  home  with  a 
ball.  Never  had  he  experienced  such  a  sensation  as 
at  the  moment.  He  was  not  doing  it  to  take  aim  at 
a  deer  or  fox,  but  to  send  it  through  the  heart  of  a 
fellow-being  if  need  be ;  to  maintain  justice  and  lib- 
erty. He  could  die  in  their  defense  ;  why  should  it 
trouble  liim,  then,  to  think  of  shooting  those  who  were 
assailing  what  he  held  so  dear? 

"  I  am  doing  right.  Liberty  shall  live,  cost  what 
it  may,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  poured  the  priming 
into  the  pan. 

On  in  serried  ranks  came  the  British. 

•'  We  are  too  few,  they  are  three  to  our  one.  We 
must  cross  the  river  and  wait  till  we  are  stronger," 
said  Colonel  Barrett. 

They  were  only  two  hundred.  They  filed  into  the 
road,  niai'fhed  past  the  Reverend  Mr.  Emerson's  house 


K     » 


BEGINNING   OF  A   NEW  ERA.  269 

to  the  north  bridge,  crossed  the  river,  and  canie  to  a 
halt  on  a  hill  overlooking  the  meadows,  the  village,  and 
surrounding  country.  They  could  see  the  British  divid- 
ing, —  one  party  crossing  the  south  bridge  and  going 
towards  Colonel  Barrett's  house  to  destroy  the  supplies 
collected  there ;  another  party  advancing  to  the  north 
bridge.  Roger  saw  gi'oups  of  officers  in  the  grave- 
yard using  their  spy-glasses.  A  soldier  was  cutting 
dowTi  the  liberty  pole.  Other  soldiers  were  entering 
houses,  helping  themselves  to  what  food  was  left  on 
the  breakfast-tables  or  in  the  pantries.  Colonel  Smith 
and  Major  Pitcaim  rested  themselves  in  Mr.  Wright's 
tavern. 

"  I  '11  stir  the  Yankee  blood  before  night,  just  as  I 
stir  this  brandy,  "  said  Pitcairn,  stirring  the  spirit  in 
his  timibler  with  his  finger. 

A  party  of  British  crossed  the  south  bridge,  made 
their  way  to  Colonel  Barrett's  house,  and  bunded  the 
cannon  carriages  stored  in  his  barn. 

Roger  was  glad  to  see  Captain  Isaac  Davis  and  the 
minute-men  of  Acton  march  up  the  hill  to  join  them. 
Captain  Davis  was  thirty  years  old.  He  had  kissed 
his  young  wife  and  foiu'  children  good-by. 

"  Take  good  care  of  the  childi-en,  Hannah,"  he  said 
as  he  bade  her  farewell. 

Twice  a  week  he  had  drUled  his  company.  He  was 
brave,  resolute,  kind-hearted.  His  men  loved  him  be- 
cause he  demanded  strict  obedience.  They  had  stopped 
long  enough  at  his  home  for  his  young  wife  to  powder 
their  hair,  that  they  might  appear  neat  and  trim  like 
gentlemen  when  meeting  the  British.  They  were 
thirty-five,  all  told.      Keeping   step  to  Luther  Blan- 


270        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

chard's  fifing  of  the  White  Cockade,  and  Francis 
Barker's  drumming,  they  marched  past  the  men  from 
Concord  and  formed  on  their  left. 


THE  WHITE  COCKADE. 


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BEGINNING   OF  A  NEW  ERA.  271 

"  Order  arms ! "  They  rested  their  muskets  on  the 
ground  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from  their  fore- 
heads. 

Men  from  Westford,  Lincobi,  and  CarHsle  are  arriv- 
ing. They  are  four  hundred  now.  The  officers  stand 
apart,  talking  in  low  tones.  The  redcoats  had 
crossed  the  bridge  to  the  western  bank. 

"  Let  us  drive  the  redcoats  across  the  river,"  said 
Captain  Smith. 

"  I  have  n't  a  man  that  is  afraid,"  said  Captain 
Davis. 

He  was  heavy-hearted  in  the  early  morning  when 
he  kissed  the  young  wife  and  took  the  baby  from  the 
cradle  in  his  arms,  but  is  resolute  now. 

"  Attention,  battalion  !  Trail  arms !  Left  in  front ! 
March  !  "  Luther  Blanchard  pipes  the  tune,  and  the 
battalion  -^  the  men  of  Acton  leading  —  descends  the 
hiU. 

The  redcoats  had  recrossed  the  river  and  were  tak- 
ing up  the  planks  of  the  bridge.  A  moment  later 
muskets  flash  beneath  the  elms  and  maples  along  the 
farthest  bank  and  there  is  a  whistling  of  bullets  in 
the  air.  Roger's  heart  is  in  his  throat,  but  he  gulps 
it  down.  Another  volley,  and  Captain  Davis,  Abner 
Hosmer,  and  Luther  Blanchard  reel  to  the  ground. 
Never  again  will  Hannah  receive  a  parting  kiss,  or  the 
father  caress  the  baby  crooning  in  the  cradle.^ 

"  Fire  !  For  God's  sake,  fire  !  "  shouts  Major  But- 
trick.   Roger  cocks  his  gun,  takes  aim  at  the  line  of  scar- 

^  "  The  fire  soon  began  from  a  dropping  shot  on  our  side,  when 
they  and  the  front  company  fired  almost  at  tlie  same  instant." 
"  Diary  of  a  British  Officer,"  Atlantic  Monthly,  April,  1877. 


272        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

let  beneath  the  trees  and  pulls  the  trigger.  Through 
the  smoke  he  sees  men  throw  up  their  arms  and  tum- 
ble to  the  ground.  The  scarlet  line  dissolves,  the 
soldiers  fleeing  in  confusion.  No  longer  is  Roger's 
heart  in  his  throat.  His  nerves  are  iron  and  the  hot 
blood  is  coursing  through  his  veins.  King  George 
has  begun  the  war ;  no  longer  is  he  his  subject,  but  a 
rebel,  never  more  to  owe  him  allegiance. 

The  forenoon  wore  away.  The  British  were  return- 
ing from  Colonel  Barrett's,  having  destroyed  the  cannon 
eari'iages,  thrown  some  bidlets  into  a  well,  and  broken 
open  several  barrels  of  flour.  It  was  past  noon  when 
they  formed  in  line  once  more  to  return  to  Boston. 

"  We  will  head  them  off  at  Merriam's  Corner,"  said 
Colonel  Barrett. 

The  planks  which  the  British  had  removed  from 
the  bridge  were  quickly  replaced.  The  minute-men 
crossed  the  stream,  turned  into  a  field  to  the  left,  and 
hastened  over  the  meadow  to  the  road  leading  to  Bed- 
ford. It  was  past  thi'ee  o'clock  when  they  reached  Mr. 
Merriam's  house.  Roger  saw  the  British  marching 
down  the  road.  Suddenly  a  platoon  wheeled  towai'ds 
the  minute-men  and  brought  their  gims  to  a  level. 
There  was  a  flash,  a  white  cloud,  and  bullets  whistled 
over  their  heads.  Once  more  he  took  aim,  as  did 
others,  and  several  ledooats  fell.  Before  he  could 
reload,  the  serried  ranks  disappeared,  marching  rapidly 
towards  Lexington.  The  minute-men  hastened  on, 
and  at  the  tavern  of  ^Nlr.  Brooks  he  sent  another 
bullet  Into  the  ranks  of  the  retreating  foe. ^ 

'    ■■  W(-  set  out  upon  our  rvtuni.    Before  the  whole  had  quitted  the 


BEGINNING  OF  A  NEW  ERA.  273 

"  Scatter  now !  Get  upon  their  flank !  Pepper 
'em  from  behind  walls  and  trees !  "  shouted  Colonel 
Barrett,  who  saw  that  it  would  be  useless  to  f oUow  the 
retreating  enemy  in  battalion  order,  but  each  man, 
acting  for  himself,  could  run  through  fields  and  pas- 
tures and  keep  up  a  tormenting  fire. 

Acting  upon  the  order,  Roger  and  James  Heywootl 
ran  through  a  piece  of  woods  towards  Fiske  Hill. 
They  came  upon  a  British  soldier  drinking  at  a  well 
by  a  house. 

"  You  are  a  dead  man,"  shouted  the  redcoat,  rais- 
ing his  gim. 

"  So  are  you,"  said  Heywood.  Their  muskets 
flashed  and  both  fell,  the  Britisher  with  a  bidlet 
through  his  heart,  and  Heywood  mortally  woimded. 

From  rock  heap,  tree,  fence,  and  thicket  the  guns  of 

the  minute-men  were  flashing.     The  soldiers  who  had 

marched  so  proudly,  keeping  step  to  the  drumbeat  in 

the  morning,  were  running  now.     No  hurrah  went  up 

as  at  sunrise  on  Lexington  Conunon.     There  was  no 

halting  at  Buckman's  tavern,  where  they  had  fired 

their  first  volley.     Their    ranks    were    in    confusion. 

Ofiicers  were  trying  to  rally  them,  tlureatening  to  cut 

them  down  with  their  swords  if  they  did  not  show  a 

])old  front  to  the  minute-men,  but  the  Yankees  seemed 

to   be    everywhere    and   yet    nowhere.     Bullets  were 

coming  from  every  direction,  yet  the  British  coidd  see 

no  men  in  line,  no  ranks  at  which  they  could  take  aim 

or  charge  with  the  bayonet.     They  were  still  twelve 

town  we  were  fired  on  from  houses  and  behind  trees,  and  before  we 
had  gone  half  a  mile  we  were  fired  on  from  all  sides,  but  mostly  from 
the  rear,  where  the  people  had  hid  themselves  in  houses  till  we  passed." 
'■  r>iary  of  a  British  Officer,"  Atlantic  Monthly,  April,  1S7T. 


274      DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

miles  from  Boston,  and  their  ammunition  failing. 
They  were  worn  and  weaty  with  the  all-night  march, 
and  were  hungry  and  thirsty.  The  road  was  strewn 
with  their  fallen  comrades.  The  woimded  were  in- 
creasing in  number,  impeding  their  retreat.  Their 
ranks  were  broken.  All  was  confusion.  Every  mo- 
ment some  one  was  falling.  ^  Blessed  the  sight  that 
greeted  them,  —  the  brigade  of  Earl  Percy,  drawn  up 
in  hollow  square  by  Mr.  Munroe's  tavern,  with  two 
cannon  upon  the  hiUocks  by  the  roadside.  They 
rushed  into  the  square  and  dropped  upon  the  ground, 
panting  and  exhausted  with  their  rapid  retreat. 

Roger  halted  a  few  minutes  on  Lexington  Green, 
where  the  conflict  began  in  the  morning.  He  saw  the 
groimd  stained  with  the  blood  of  those  who  had  fallen, 
—  crossed  the  threshold  where  Jonathan  Harrington 
had  died  in  the  arms  of  his  wife.  Across  the  Common 
the  house  and  barn  of  Joseph  Loring  were  in  flames, 
set  on  fire  by  the  British. 

Earl  Percy's  troops  were  ransacking  the  houses  a 
little  farther  down  the  road.  In  Mr.  Munroe's  tav- 
ern they  were  conipelling  old  John  Raymond  to  bring 
them  food,  and  because  he  could  not  give  them  what 
they  wanted,  sent  a  bullet  through  his  heart.^ 

^  "  They  were  so  concealed  there  was  hardly  any  seeing  them.  In 
this  way  we  marched  between  nine  and  ten  miles,  their  numbers  increas- 
ing- from  all  parts,  while  ours  was  reducing  by  deaths,  wounds,  and 
fatigue,  and  we  were  totally  surrounded  with  such  an  incessant  fire 
as  it  is  impossible  to  conceive.  Our  ammunition  was  likewise  near 
expended."   '"  Diary  of  a  British  Officer,"  Atlantic  Monthly,  April,  1877. 

^  "  We  marched  pretty  quiet  for  about  two  miles,  when  they  began 
to  pepper  us  again.  We  were  now  obliged  to  force  almost  every  house 
ill  the  road,  for  the  rebels  had  taken  possession  of  them  and  galled  us 
exceedingly  ;    but   they  suffered  for  their  temerity. ybr  all  that  were 


BEGINNING   OF  A   NEW  ERA.  275 

Once  more  the  British  were  on  the  march. 

Roger,  rested  and  invigorated,  ran  through  a 
pasture,  crouched  behind  a  bowlder,  rested  his  gun 
upon  it,  and  sent  a  bullet  into  the  ranks.  He  was 
delighted  when  Doctor  Joseph  Warren  came  galloping 
over  the  hill.  The  doctor  said  he  left  Boston  in  the 
morning,  rode  to  Cambridge  and  Watertown,  then 
hastened  on  to  Lexington.  He  was  glad  the  minute- 
men  and  militia  had  resisted  the  British.  While 
talking  with  Roger  and  those  around  him,  a  bullet 
whizzed  past  the  doctor's  head,  knocking  a  pin  from 
his  ear-lock. 

The  rattling  fire  of  the  minute-men  was  increasing 
once  more,  —  answered  by  voUeys  from  Percy's  pla- 
toons. The  British,  smarting  under  the  tormenting 
fusilade,  angry  over  the  thought  that  they  were  being 
assailed  by  a  rabble  of  farmers  and  were  on  the  de- 
fensive, became  wanton  and  barbaric,  pillaging  houses, 
and  murdering  inoffensive  old  men. 

Roger  was  delighted  to  hear  from  Jonathan  Lor- 
ing,  one  of  the  Lexington  minute-men,  how  his  sister 
Lydia,  fearing  that  the  British  would  steal  the  com- 
munion cups  and  platters  belonging  to  the  church  of 
which  her  father  was  deacon,  took  them  in  her  apron, 
ran  out  into  the  orchard,  and  hid  them  under  a  pile 
of  brush. 

found  in  the  houses  were  put  to  death."'  "  Diary  of  a  British  Officer," 
Atlantic  Monthly,  Apiil,  1877. 

Earl  Percy  made  the  tavern  of  Mr.  Munroe  his  headquarters. 

'■  A  party  entered  the  tavern  and.  helping  themselves,  or  rather 
compelling  the  inmates  of  the  house  to  help  them  to  whatever  they 
wanted,  they  treacherously  and  with  ruthlessness  shot  down  John 
Raymond,  an  mfirm  old  man,  only  because  he.  alarmed  at  this  rough- 
ness and  brutal  conduct,  was  about  leaving  the  liouse  to  seek  a  place 
of  greater  safety."     Hudson's  Hist,  of  Lexington. 


276        DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Pitiful  it  was  to  see  Widow  Mulliken's  house  in 
flames,  —  wantonly  set  on  fire  by  the  red-coated 
ruffians. 

Roger  saw  a  soldier  deliberately  raise  his  gun,  take 
aim,  and  send  a  bidlet  through  the  heart  of  Jason 
Russel,  an  old  gi-ay-haired  man,  standing  in  his  own 
door.  Again,  at  closer  range,  he  took  aim  at  the 
retreating  column. 

His  indignation  was  aroused  as  h6  listened  to  the 
story  told  by  Hannah  Adams,  a  few  minutes  later. 
She  was  in  bed  in  her  chamber,  with  a  new-bom  babe 
at  her  breast,  when  two  redcoats  entered  the  room. 
One  pointed  his  musket  at  her. 

"  For  the  Lord's  sake,  do  not  kill  me,"  she  said. 

"  I  am  going  to  shoot  you,"  the  soldier  replied, 
with  an  oath. 

"  No,  you  must  n't  shoot  a  woman,"  said  the  other, 
pushing  aside  the  gun,  "  but  we  are  going  to  set  the 
liouse  on  fire,  and  you  must  get  out." 

With  the  babe  in  her  arms,  she  crawled  down- 
stairs and  into  the  yard. 

The  soldiers  scattered  the  coals  from  the  fireplace 
around  the  room,  and  left,  but  the  older  children  ran 
in  and  put  out  the  flames. 

At  Mr.  Cooper's  tavern  was  a  ghastly  sight ;  upon 
the  floor  lay  the  mangled  bodies  of  Jason  Wyman 
and  Jesse  Winship,  two  old  men,  who  had  come  from 
their  homes  to  learn  the  news.  They  were  drinking 
toddy,  when  the  head  of  Earl  Percy's  retreating 
troops  arrived,  and  fired  a  volley  into  the  house.  The 
landlord  and  his  wife  fled  to  the  cellar.  The  British 
swarmed  into  the  tavern,  manaled  the  bodies  of  the 


z     'z 


>  ^ 

<  s 

o  & 

S  9 


BEGINNING  OF  A  NEW  ERA.  277 

two  old  men  with  bayonet  thrusts,  and  scattered  their 
brains  around  the  room. 

In  the  morning  Roger  had  felt  some  qualms  of 
conscience  as  he  took  aim  at  the.  scarlet  line  of  men 
by  Concord  River,  but  now  to  him  the  redcoats 
were  fiends  in  human  form.  It  gave  him  fresh  cour- 
age to  see  Samuel  Whittemore,  eighty  years  old, 
come  running  with  his  musket,  taking  deliberate  aim, 
firing  thi*ee  times,  and  bringing  down  a  redcoat 
every  time  he  pulled  the  trigger.  But  a  soldier 
leaped  from  the  ranks,  ran  upon  and  shot  the  old 
man,  stabbed  him  with  his  bayonet,  beat  him  with 
the  butt  of  his  musket,  leaving  hun  for  dead.^ 

Roger  swung  his  hat  to  welcome  Captain  Gideon 
Foster  of  Danvers,  and  his  company,  who  had  marched 
sixteen  miles  in  four  hours,  coming  upon  the  British 
at  Menotomy  meetinghouse.  A  moment  later  they 
were  in  the  thick  of  the  fight. 

It  was  a  thrilling  story  which  Timothy  Monroe  had 
to  tell,  how  he  and  Daniel  Townsend  fired,  and  each 
brought  down  a  redcoat,  and  then  ran  into  a  house ; 
how  the  British  surrounded  it,  and  killed  Townsend ; 
how  he  leaped  tlu'ough  a  window  and  ran,  with  a 
whole  platoon  firing  at  him,  riddling  his  clothes  with 
bidlets,  yet  escaping  without  a  scratch. 

Again  Roger  rejoiced  when  he  learned  that  before 
Earl  Percy  reached  Menotomy  a  company  of  men 
had  captured  his  baggage  wagons,  killing  and  wound- 
ing several  British  soldiers,  and  that  the  attacking 
party  were  led  by  Reverend  Philip  Payson,  the  min- 
ister of  Chelsea. 

^  He  was  not  dead,  however,  but  lived  many  years. 


278       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

It  was  almost  sunset  wlien  Roger  held  his  horn  up 
to  the  hght  once  more,  and  saw  there  was  little  more 
than  enough  powder  for  one  charge,  and  that  there 
were  only  two  bidlets  in  the  pouch.  He  decided  to 
put  in  all  the  powder  and  both  biUlets  for  his  parting 
shot.  Another  half  hour  and  they  would  be  under  the 
protection  of  the  guns  of  the  frigate  Somerset.  The 
minute-men  were  getting  so  near  and  were  so  deter- 
mined that  Earl  Percy  ordered  the  cannon  to  unlim- 
ber  and  open  fire,  wliile  the  soldiers,  almost  upon  the 
rmi,  hastened  towards  Charlestown. 

Roger,  having  reloaded  his  gun,  made  haste  to 
overtake  them.  Looking  along  the  road,  he  saw  a 
crowd  of  panic-stricken  people  —  men,  women,  and 
children  - —  fleeing  from  their  houses.  The  picture  of 
the  scene  of  Menotomy  had  stamped  itself  into  his 
memory.  Tliis  last  shot  should  be  his  best.  Not 
now  would  he  crouch  behind  a  fence,  a  tree,  or 
bowlder.  He  would  confront  the  murderers  like  a 
man.  He  walked  deliberately  forward.  He  was  by 
a  farmhouse,  so  near  the  last  file  of  soldiers  which 
liad  halted  to  ward  off  the  minute-men  a  moment, 
that  lie  could  see  the  whites  of  their  eyes.  He  aimed 
at  the  cross-belt  of  a  man  in  the  middle  of  the  file, 
and  ])ulled  the  trigger.  He  caught  a  ghmpse  of  a 
man  falling,  but  found  himself  reeling  to  the  ground. 
A  bullet  had  pierced  his  breast.  The  British  passed 
on.  A  woman  came  from  the  house,  and  looked 
down  into  his  face. 

"  A  drink  of  water,  please  marm,"  he  said. 

She  ]-aii  to  the  well,  saiik  the  bucket  into  it, 
brought  a  gourd  full,  and  came  and  crouched  by  his 
head  wliilc  he  drank. 


BEGINNING  OF  A  NEW  ERA.  279 

"  Thank  you,  marm." 

He  looked  up  into  her  face  a  moment. 

"  I  think  I  am  going,"  he  whispered. 

She  pillowed  his  head  upon  her  arm,  laid  back  the 
hair  from  his  manly  brow,  and  fanned  him  with  her 
apron. 

"  Please  tell  her,"  he  whispered. 

"TeUwho?" 

She  bowed  her  head  to  catch  the  word. 

"Tell  — Rachel." 

The  mild  blue  eyes  were  looking  far  away.  A 
smile  like  the  light  of  the  morning  came  upon  his 
face.  One  more  breath,  and  he  was  one  of  the  forty- 
nine  who,  during  the  day,  gave  their  lives  that  they 
might  inaugurate  a  new  era  in  the  republic  of  God. 


XVIII. 

BESIEGED. 

Thomas  Gage,  governor,  commanding  his  majesty's 
forces  in  America,  was  sitting  in  the  Province  House, 
greatly  disturbed  in  mind.  The  expedition  to  Con- 
cord had  not  residted  as  he  expected.  The  troops 
liad  marched  out  bravely,  destroyed  a  few  barrels  of 
flour,  disabled  half  a  dozen  old  cannon,  burned  some 
carriage  wheels,  but  had  returned  to  Boston  on  the 
run  like  a  flock  of  sheep  worried  by  dogs.  The 
Tories  had  informed  him  that  a  couple  of  regiments 
coidd  march  from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the 
other,  but  the  events  of  the  preceding  day  were  open- 
ing his  eyes  to  a  far  different  state  of  affairs.  Till 
within  a  few  hours  the  country  had  been  at  peace : 
farmers  folloAvang  the  plow ;  blacksmiths  hammering 
iron  ;  carjjenters  pushing  the  plane.  All  had  changed. 
Thousands  were  under  arms,  gathering  at  Cambridge 
and  Roxburv.  The  Colonies  were  aflame,  —  not 
only  Massachusetts,  but  New  Hampshire,  Rhode 
Island,  and  Connecticut.  The  troops  which  marched 
to  Concord  so  proudly  were  back  in  Boston,  —  not  all : 
twenty-three  had  been  killed,  two  hundred  wounded 
and  missing.  Eighteen  of  the  officers  had  been  killed 
or  woundt'd.  Governor  Gage  could  not  gainsay  the 
fact  that  the  citizens  were  victors.     They  had  followed 


BESIEGED. 


281 


the  troops  to  Charlestown  till  nightfall,  like  a  swarm 
of  angiy  hornets.  A  great  army  was  closing  around 
him,  cutting  off  his  supplies.  No  more  fresh  beef 
or  mutton  would  be  for  sale  in  the  market ;  no  teams 
would  bring  potatoes  and  cabbages  for  the  soldiers. 


Province  House. 


What  would  King  George  say  ?  What  woidd  the  min- 
istry tliink  ?  What  would  they  do  ?  How  would  the 
people  of  England  regard  his  administration  of  affairs? 
The  unexpected  hatl  liappened  He  had  not  dreamed 
of  such  an  uprising.     What  course  should  he  pursue  ? 


282       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

All  Boston  was  in  commotion.  People  were  packing 
their  goods  on  carts,  loading  them  on  boats  to  flee 
from  the  town.  Women  were  wringing  their  hands, 
children  crying,  fathers  walking  the  streets  with  care- 
worn faces,  not  knowing  whither  to  go  or  what  to  do. 
Officers  were  gathering  at  the  Province  House  await- 
ing orders  and  talking  of  what  had  happened,  and 
smarting  under  the  thought  that  the  retreat  had  been 
a  flight  and  almost  a  panic.  It  was  a  hmniliating 
reflection  that  disciplined  soldiers  had  been  put  upon 
the  run  by  a  rabble  of  countrymen.  Earl  Percy,  after 
a  sleepless  night,  weary  and  travel-worn,  was  gladly 
welcomed  by  Governor  Gage.  He  told  the  story  of 
the  retreat. 

"If  it  had  not  been,  your  excellency,  for  my  timely 
arrival,  I  fear  few  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith's 
troops  woidd  have  escaped,  as  they  were  completely 
exhausted,  their  ammunition  gone,  and  the  men  upon 
the  run.  I  am  free  to  say  that  I  was  completely 
astonished.  I  formed  my  brigade  in  hollow  square, 
and  his  men  threw  themselves  on  the  ground  with 
their  tongues  loUing  from  their  mouths,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  plain  that  you  marched  none  too  soon,"  the 
governor  replied. 

"  I  cannot  account  for  such  a  sudden  uprising.  I 
saw  very  few  rebels.  There  were  no  organized  bodies 
of  rebels  to  be  seen,  —  not  more  than  twenty  or  thirty 
in  a  group ;  but  they  were  all  around  us,  firing  from 
fences,  rocks,  trees,  ditches,  houses.  If  we  charged 
and  drove  them,  they  were  back  again  the  moment  we 
resumed  our  march.  I  must  admit  they  were  brave 
and  persistent.  They  were  like  so  many  wasps," 
said  the  earl. 


BESIEGED.  283 

"  1  learn,"  said  the  governor,  "  that  several  thou- 
sand armed  men  have  already  gathered  at  Cambridge 
and  Roxbmy.  A  loyal  citizen  informs  me  they  have 
been  arriving  through  the  night  in  great  numbers.  It 
seems  probable  that  we  are  to  be  hemmed  in  by  the 
provincials  for  the  present,  and  must  make  prepara- 
tions accordingly." 

Fast  and  far  the  alarm  had  gone.  Twenty-four 
hours  and  it  was  one  hundred  miles  away,  and  Robert 
Walden  of  Rumford  with  bullet-pouch,  powder-horn, 
and  musket  was  on  his  way,  as  were  Colonel  John 
Stark,  Captain  Daniel  Moore  of  Derryfield,  and  hun- 
dreds of  others  in  New  Hampshire,  Israel  Putnam, 
Thomas  Knowlton  of  Connecticut,  and  their  fellow- 
citizens,  all  animated  by  one  thought,  —  to  resist  the 
armed  aggressions  of  the  myrmidons  of  the  king. 
There  was  a  brave  heart  behind  Rachel's  quivering 
lips  when  she  pressed  them  to  Robert's. 

"  Roger  is  sure  to  be  there.  Tell  him  I  think  of 
him  every  night  before  I  go  to  sleej)."  Little  did 
they  know  that  he  was  being  borne  to  his  last  resting- 
place  on  the  banks  of  the  winding  river. 

Robert  was  glad  to  learn  when  he  reached  Medford 
that  John  Stark  was  to  be  colonel  of  the  New  Hamp- 
shire troops. 

Tom  Brandon  was  working  day  and  night  to  help 
people  obtain  passes  from  General  Gage  and  leave  the 
town.  More  than  five  thousand  closed  their  houses 
and  took  their  departure.^     The  governor  would  not 

^  For  a  week  after  the  affair  at  Lexington  and  Concord,  Governor 
Gage  refused  the  request  of  the  people  to  leave  the  town,  but  the 
growing  scarcity  of  provisions  compelled  him  to  permit  their  departure. 


284       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

allow  any  one  to  take  their  guns  or  swords,  or  any- 
thing which  would  in  any  way  contribute  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  provincials. 

The  soldiers  from  Rumford,  having  unbounded  con- 
fidence in  Robert  Walden,  elected  him  lieutenant. 
When  General  Artemus  Ward,  commanding  the  troops 
at  Cambridge,  asked  Colonel  Stark  if  he  had  a  trust- 
worthy young  man  whom  he  could  recommend  to  exe- 
cute an  important  order,  Lieutenant  Walden  was  se- 
lected and  directed  to  report  at  general  headquarters. 
He  was  kindly  received  and  informed  he  was  to 
negotiate  with  the  British  for  an  exchange  of  prisoners. 

Mounted  upon  his  horse.  Lieutenant  Walden  rode 
to  Charlestown  Neck,  and  from  thence  to  the  top  of 
Bunker  Hill  to  obtain  a  view  of  Boston  and  the  har- 
bor. He  saw  the  warsliips  were  swinging  at  anchor 
in  the  stream.  Across  the  river  were  the  silent  streets 
of  the  besieged  town.  He  could  distinguish  the  home 
of  Captain  Brandon,  and  the  Green  Dragon  Tavern,  — 
its  doors  closed.  It  was  not  these  buildings,  however, 
that  most  interested  him,  but  a  mansion  on  the  slope 
of  Beacon  Hill,  with  its  surrounding  grounds,  —  the 
NewviUe  home.  The  window  of  Miss  Newville's 
chamber  was  open,  the  curtain  drawn  aside.  His  spy- 
glass made  it  seem  very  near.  How  would  she  greet 
him  were  they  to  meet  again  ?  Would  she  be  changed 
by  the  changing  circumstances?  Would  she, daughter 
of  a  loyalist,  deign  to  notice  him,  a  rebel?  Blessed 
vision  I  A  figure  in  white  appeared  at  the  window. 
It  was  she  for  wlioiii  lie  could  lay  down  his  life,  if 
need  l)e.  Oh,  if  he  could  but  reach  out  his  hand  to 
her,  —  hear  once  more  the  voice  that  had  thrilled  him 


BESIEGED.  285 

/  in  the  past !     She  stood  by  the  window,  looking  upon 

the  flowers  blooming  in  the  garden.  The  vision  was 
but  for  a  moment,  for  the  window  was  soon  closed 
and  the  curtain  drawn.  He  descended  the  hill,  rode 
through  the  village  to  the  ferry  landing,  displaying  a 
white  flag.  It  was  answered  by  the  waving  of  an- 
other on  the  deck  of  the  Lively  warship.  Then  a 
boat  brought  a  lieutenant  of  the  fleet  to  the  shore. 

"Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want?"  the  curt 
question  of  the  Britisher. 

"  I  am  commissioned  by  the  conunander-in-chief  of 
the  provincial  army  to  ask  if  it  will  be  agreeable  to 
General  Gage  to  make  an  exchange  of  prisoners?" 

"  The  rebel  army,  you  mean." 

"  I  said  provincial,  but  if  it  suits  you  any  better  to 
think  of  the  Americans  as  rebels,  I  will  not  object. 
We  are  rebels  against  tyranny  and  oppression,  as  I 
trust  we  always  shall  be.  We  have  several  officers  of 
the  king's  troops  in  our  hands,  and  you  have  some  of 
our  men.  If  an  exchange  is  desired  by  General  Gage, 
I  am  empowered  to  arrange  the  details,"  Robert  said 
with  cahn  dignity. 

The  Britisher  bowed,  and  the  boat  pulled  back  to 
the  sliip,  returning  again  after  a  time  with  an  officer 
commissioned  to  make  arrangements  for  the  transfer. 

The  sun  was  nearing  the  hour  of  noon,  three  days 
later,  when  Lieutenant  Walden,  accompanied  by  Gen- 
ei-al  Putnam,  Doctor  Warren,  and  a  detail  of  soldiers, 
conducted  the  British  officers  and  men  to  the  ferry 
landing,  meeting  Major  Moncrief  and  other  British 
officers,  with  the  provincial  prisoners  in  their  keeping. 
The    British    soldiers,    with    tears   upon    their    faces, 


286       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

thanked  Doctor  Warren  for  the  kind  treatment  they 
had  received.  The  Americans  had  no  thanks  to  give 
for  what  they  had  received  on  the  strawless  floor  of 
the  jaU,  the  prison  fare  for  food.  Lieutenant  Walden 
had  engaged  a  dinner  in  the  tavern.  The  landlord  set 
forth  liis  choicest  wine.  Putnam  and  Moncrief,  being 
old  acquaintances,  chatted  of  the  days  at  Ticonderoga 
while  partaking  of  the  viands  and  quaffing  glasses  of 
madeira. 

'"  While  the  white  flag  is  waving  we  will  not  let 
oiu*  differences  mar  the  pleasure  of  the  hour,"  said 
Doctor  Warren,  who  delighted  the  company  with  his 
wit.  Dinner  over,  there  was  a  shaking  of  hands, 
expressions  of  personal  good-will,  and  courteous  salutes. 
With  the  furling  of  the  white  flag  they  were  enemies 
once  more. 

Ships  were  arriving  from  England  bringing  Gen- 
eral William  Howe,  General  Henry  Clinton,  and 
General  John  Burgoyne,  with  several  thousand  troops 
to  carry  on  the  war.  Every  morning  Miss  Newville 
heard  the  drums  beating  the  reveille  and  in  the  even- 
ing the  tattoo.  Many  oificers  called  at  the  hospitable 
home  of  Honorable  Theodore  Newville  to  enjoy  the 
society  of  his  charming  daughter,  who  received  them 
with  grace  and  dignity. 

With  no  fresh  provisions  in  the  market,  the  dinners 
given  by  Mr.  Xewville  to  the  generals  Howe,  Clinton, 
and  Burgoyne  was  not  so  elaborate  as  that  to  Lord 
Uppei'ton,  but  more  appetizing  than  those  on  ship- 
board while  crossing  the  Atlantic.  It  was  a  plea- 
sure to  General  Howe  to  escort  Miss  Xewville  to  the 
(lining-room,  sit  by  her  side,  and  listen  to  a  voice  that 


BESIEGED.  287 

charmed  him  by  its  piu'ity  and  sweetness.  A  lady  so 
highly  endowed,  and  with  such  gi-ace  of  manner,  woidd 
adorn  any  home,  —  even  the  drawing-room  of  her  ma- 
jesty the  queen. 

The  home  of  Mrs.  Martha  Duncan,  with  its  shrub- 
bery and  garden  neatly  kept,  was  selected  by  General 
Howe  as  a  residence.  He  hoped  it  would  not  greatly 
inconvenience  her ;  he  woidd  gladly  remunerate  her 
for  any  trouble  he  might  make.  It  would  be  a  plea- 
sure to  have  her  for  a  hostess.  His  own  servant 
would  attend  to  his  personal  wants. 

"  Of  course,  mother,"  said  Abraham,  "  we  cannot 
prevent  him  from  taking  possession  of  our  home  ;  we 
may  as  well  make  the  best  of  it,  accept  the  inevitable, 
and  spoil  the  Egyptians  if  we  can.  He  seems  to  be  a 
gentleman,  a  man  of  honor,  and  will,  doubtless,  pay  us 
well.  Besides,  possibly  we  may  leam  something  that 
can  be  turned  to  good  account,  if  we  keep  our  eyes 
and  ears  open,  and  oiu*  wits  about  us." 

"  It  will  be  only  a  plain  table,  my  lord,  I  can  provide. 
Since  the  provincials  have  closed  around  us,  the  mar- 
ket has  been  bare  of  provisions,"  said  Mrs.  Dimcan. 

"  I  am  aware  of  it,  madam,  but  I  doubt  not  you 
wiU  be  able  to  f ui-nish  appetizing  food,  possibly  a  joint 
of  roast  mutton  from  the  flocks  of  sheep  accessible  to 
us  on  the  islands  in  the  harbor,  a  fresh  mackerel  or 
cod.  We  are  not  yet  shut  in  from  the  sea,  and  possi- 
bly we  may  soon  have  free  access  to  the  suiTOunding 
countiy,  for  I  hear  there  is  much  discontent  among  the 
provincials,  and  their  numbers  are  rapidly  melting 
away,  now  that  the  first  excitement  is  over,"  responded 
Lord  Howe. 


288        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Possibly  I  may  be  able  to  provide  early  vegeta- 
bles,—  lettuce,  dandelions,  greens,  asparagus,  and 
water-cresses,  my  lord,  if  you  will  allow  my  negro  ser- 
vant, Cato,  to  pass  the  patrol  to  Charlestown,"  said 
Mrs.  Dimcan. 

"  I  win  give  him  such  permission,"  he  replied,  writ- 
ing a  pass,  directing  the  sentinels  along  the  wharves, 
and  the  marine  patrol  in  the  harbor,  to  pass  the 
negro  servant,  Cato. 

Not  only  Cato,  but  Mrs.  Duncan  and  her  son,  Abra- 
ham, ship-carver  and  artist,  were  attentive  to  the  wants 
of  General  Howe,  receiving  shining  guineas  in  return. 
It  was  a  pleasure  to  the  British  commander,  just  ar- 
rived from  England,  to  talk  with  a  young  gentleman 
so  well  informed  and  of  such  attainments  as  the  son  of 
his  hostess. 

"  I  dare  say,  Mr.  Duncan,  you  are  quite  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  country  around  Boston  ?  "  said  his 
lordship. 

"  I  have  been  up  the  Charles  and  Mystic  by  boat 
many  times,  my  lord,  and  visited  Cambridge  to  enjoy 
the  festivities  of  Class  Day,  and  the  orations  of  gi-adu- 
ates  at  Commencement.  I  have  rambled  the  Roxbury 
fields  and  pastures  for  strawberries,  and  am  pretty 
well  acquainted  \^'ith  the  various  localities." 

General  Howe  spread  out  a  map  and  asked  many 
questions  in  regard  to  the  surrounding  hills,  valleys, 
woods,  and  cleared  lands.  He  was  surprised  to  see 
how  well  Mr.  Duncan  could  sketch  them  in  with  his 
l)encil  upon  tlie  ma})  which  Ensign  De  Berniere  had 
drawn.  Lord  Howe  introduced  him  to  Generals 
Pigot  and  Clinton,  who  were  jilcased  with  the  intelli- 
gent rei)lies  to  their  (piestions. 


BESIEGED.  289 

There  came  a  day  in  June  when  Abraham  heard 
General  Howe  say  to  the  other  commanders  that  the 
Charlestown  Hills  ought  to  be  occupied  at  once,  for 
fear  the  rebels  might  seize  them.  Were  they  to  do 
so,  Boston  might  be  bombarded,  and  the  ships  driven 
from  their  anchorage. 

"  Doctor  Warren  and  General  Ward  ought  to  know 
that,"  Abraham  said  to  himself. 

There  were  only  a  few  words  in  the  letter  which 
Abraham  Duncan  tucked  under  the  cuff  of  Cato's 
coat-sleeve  the  next  morning,  when  he  stepped  into  his 
boat  to  cross  the  river  and  gather  young  asparagus 
and  water-cresses  for  General  Howe's  dinner.  Cato 
was  directed  to  hand  the  slip  of  paper  to  Deacon  Lar- 
kin's  negro,  Jim,  who  would  know  what  to  do  with  it. 

Faithful  and  true  to  their  kind-hearted  masters 
were  Cato  and  Jim,  passing  the  letter  from  hand  to 
hand,  till  it  reached  Doctor  Joseph  Warren  in  consul- 
tation with  General  Artemus  Ward  and  the  committee 
of  safety  in  Cambridge. 

"  Bunker's  Hill  is  to  be  occupied  at  once."  ^ 

That  was  all,  except  an  ink  blot. 

"  It  is  authentic,  —  from  a  trustworthy  Son  of  Lib- 
erty," said  Doctor  Warren. 

"  It  has  no  signature,"  said  General  Ward. 

"  Therefore  is  not  treasonable.  Besides,  it  does  not 
state  who  is  to  occupy  Bunker's  Hill,  —  the  British  or 
ourselves,"  the  doctor  replied. 

1  The  two  eminences  in  Charlestown  were  named  Breed's  and  Bun- 
ker's Hill  respectively,  — that  upon  which  the  redouht  was  constructed 
was  Breed's  Hill ;  the  rail  fence  behind  which  the  troops  from  New 
Hampshire  fought  was  on  the  slope  of  Bunker's  Hill. 


290       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  How  do  you  know  it  Is  genuine  —  from  the  writ- 
ing?" 

"  No  ;  the  hand  is  disguised.  Nevertheless,  I  know 
the  writer.  He  informs  me  that  the  British  intend  to 
take  possession  of  Charlestown  Heights."  ^ 

"  Are  you  sure  it  is  authentic  information  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it.  The  writer  is  in  position 
to  learn  what  they  intend  to  do.  He  is  a  very  quiet 
man,  but  has  his  eyes  and  ears  open.  It  is  not  the 
first  time  he  has  shown  his  devotion  to  our  cause. 
You  say  he  has  not  signed  it ;  true  he  has  not  written 
his  name,  not  even  the  initials,  yet  his  signature  is 
ujjon  the  sheet,  —  the  insignificant  ink-blot.  It  would 
not  be  accepted  as  testimony  in  a  court-martial,  but 
it  is  sufficient  for  me,"  said  Doctor  Warren. 

With  the  letter  came  a  copy  of  a  proclamation  is- 
sued by  General  Gage.  No  longer  were  the  selectmen 
of  any  towns  in  the  Province  of  Massachusetts  to  have 
anything  to  say.  Martial  law  was  to  supersede  civil 
authority.  The  provincial  soldiers  were  rebels  and 
traitors  who  must  lay  down  their  arms  at  once  and  go 
home,  if  they  would  hope  for  pardon ;  but  there  was 
no  pardon  for  Samuel  Adams  and  John  Hancock,  who 
must  pay  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law  for  inciting 
the  people  to  rebel  against  their  kind  and  lenient 
king. 

"  We  ask  no  favor  of  King  George ;  he  began  the 
war,  we  wiU  end  it^"  said  the  soldiers  as  they  read 
the  proclamation. 

^  General  Gage  at  tlie  outset  saw  the  value  of  Charlestown  Heights 
from  the  military  standpoint,  but  was  not  able  to  make  any  move- 
ment to  take  possession  of  the  ground  till  the  arrival  of  his  reinforce- 
ments. 


xrs. 

BUNKER   HILL. 

If  the  British  regarded  Charlestown  Heights  of 
such  importance,  why  should  not  the  provincials  seize 
them  ?  It  must  be  done.  Twilight  was  still  linger- 
ing on  the  western  horizon  when  the  troops  selected 
for  the  expedition  paraded  on  Cambridge  Common. 
Colonel  William  Prescott  was  to  command  them.  He 
had  fought  at  Louisburg,  and  was.  cool  and  brave. 
With  uncovered  heads  the  regiments  stood  in  front 
of  the  meetinghouse  while  Reverend  Mr.  Langdon, 
president  of  the  college,  offered  prayer.  Lieutenant 
Walden,  having  been  upon  Bimker  Hill,  led  the  way, 
followed  by  soldiers  from  Connecticut  and  Massachu- 
setts, and  two  carts  loaded  with  picks  and  shovels. 
They  marched  in  silence.  Lieutenant  Walden  con- 
ducted them  across  the  Neck  and  up  the  slope  of  the 
Hill.  It  was  nearly  midnight  before  it  was  decided 
just  where  Colonel  Gridley  should  mark  out  the  con- 
templated  fortifications.!      Lieutenant   Walden   con- 

^  The  orders  to  Prescott  contained  no  definite  instmctions  in  regard 
to  which  of  the  hills  should  be  fortified,  and  the  veteran  engineer, 
Gridley,  doubted  whether  it  would  be  best  to  begin  the  works  on  the 
highest  eminence,  or  the  lower  one,  nearer  the  shipping.  It  seems 
probable  his  intention  Avas  to  construct  works  on  both  hills,  but  a  lack 
of  picks  and  shovels  compelled  him  to  confine  his  work  to  the  single 
redoubt  on  Breed's  Hill. 


292       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ducted  Captain  Nutting  and  ten  sentinels  to  the 
ferry  landing.  They  were  but  a  little  distance  from 
the  frigate  Somerset  at  anchor  in  the  stream.  Far- 
ther up,  towards  Lechmere's  Point,  were  the  Glasgow, 
Cerberus,  and  Symetry.  Down  the  river,  off  Moul- 
ton's  Point,  lay  the  Lively  and  Falcon. 

Leaving  the  sentinels  to  guard  the  shore,  he  rode  to 
the  summit  of  the  hill,  where  the  men  were  hard  at 
work,  delving  in  silence  with  pick  and  spade.  There 
were  not  sufficient  implements  for  aU,  but  when  one 
was  out  of  breath,  another  took  his  place,  and  before 
the  first  glimmer  of  dawn  appeared,  the  trench  had 
been  made  breast  deep. 

"  Four  o'clock  and  aU  's  weU !  "  came  from  the  sen- 
tinel on  the  Somerset,  but  a  moment  later  a  sheet  of 
flame  and  a  white  cloud  burst  from  the  side  of  the 
Lively,  and  the  roar  of  a  gun  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  morning. 

The  thunder  rolled  far  away,  arousing  the  British 
army,  the  jjeople  of  Boston,  General  Gage,  and  Lord 
Howe  from  their  slumbers.  Berinthia  Brandon,  from 
her  chamber  window,  beheld  the  warship  Lively 
shrouded  in  smoke.  Upon  the  green  hill,  where,  the 
day  before,  the  farmers  had  been  swinging  their 
scythes,  and  where  the  partially  cured  hay  was  lying 
in  windrows,  she  could  see  a  bank  of  yeUow  earth. 
Agaui  the  thunder  of  the  guns  jarred  her  window,  but 
at  a  signal  from  the  Somerset  the  firing  ceased. 

Before  sunrise  all  Boston  was  astir,  moving  towards 
Copp's  Hill,  gazing  from  windows  and  roofs  upon  the 
gi-owing  fortifications.  Generals  Gage  and  Howe 
ascended  the  steeple  of  Christ  Church  and  looked  at 


BUNKER  HILL.  293 

the  embankment  with  their  telescopes.^  A  little  later 
officers  were  hurrying  along  the  streets  with  orders  to 
the  several  regiments  to  be  ready  to  march  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice.  Drums  were  beating;  battalions  mov- 
ing towards  Long  Wharf,  the  selected  rendezvous, 
from  whence  the  troops  were  to  be  transported  in 
boats  to  Moulton's  Point,  ascend  the  hill,  and  send  the 
provincials  flying  from, their  chosen  position. 

Such  was  the  information  brought  to  the  Brandon 
home  by  Abraham  Duncan. 

"  You  will  have  a  splendid  chance  to  see  the  battle 
from  the  housetop,"  he  said  to  Captain  Brandon. 

Cannon  carriages  were  rumbling  through  the  street, 
passing  the  Brandon  home,  wheeling  into  the  burial 
ground,  and  coming  into  position.  The  gunners 
loaded  the  pieces  and  lighted  their  port  fires,  waved 
their  lint-stocks,  and  touched  them  to  the  priming. 
Flames  and  smoke  belched  from  the  muzzle  of  the 
guns  with  deafening  roar,  sending  the  missiles  upon  the 
fortification. 

While  the  cannoneers  were  reloading  the  guns, 
Berinthia,  upon  the  housetop  with  a  telescope,  saw  a 
man  leap  up  from  the  intrenchment  and  stand  in  full 
view  upon  the  bank  of  earth,  swinging  his  hat  and 
shaking  his  fist. 

"  Oh  father !  mother  !  it  is  Tom  !  He  's  swinging 
his  hat !     Just  see  him !  "  she  cried. 

Again   the  cannon   flamed,  but   with  the   flashing 

Tom  leaped  back  into  the  trench  and  was  safe  from 

the  shot. 

^  The  lieadqtiartei-s  of  General  Gage  were  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Gal- 
loup.  on  Hull  Street,  a  stone's-throw  from  Christ  Church  The  house, 
a  two-story  wooden  building  with  a  gambrel  roof,  is  still  standing 

(1895). 


294       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  'm  glad  he  's  there.  He  's  got  the  true  stuff  in 
him,"  said  Mr.  Brandon. 

"  I  'm  afraid  he  '11  be  killed !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bran- 
don, manifesting  the  mother's  solicitude  and  love. 

"  I  glory  in  his  pluck,"  said  Berinthia. 

People  came  from  other  sections  of  the  town  to  be- 
hold the  impending  battle. 

"  May  we  presmne  to  trespass  upon  your  hospitality, 
Captain  Brandon,"  asked  Mr.  Newville,  "  and,  if  you 
have  room,  see  this  approaching  contest  from  your 
housetop  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  We  give  you  and  your  family  hearty 
welcome.  We  doubtless  shall  see  it  from  different 
pohtical  standpoints  ;  you  are  truly  loyal  to  the  king  ; 
my  sympathies,  as  you  know,  are  with  the  provincials, 
but  that  shall  not  diminish  our  personal  friendship  or 
my  hospitality,"  Captain  Brandon  replied,  escorting 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newville  and  Miss  Newville  to  the  top 
of  the  house  and  providing  them  seats. 

The  forenoon  wore  away ;  Mrs.  Brandon  was  busy 
preparing  a  lunch,  and  Chloe  soon  had  the  table  elab- 
orately supplied  with  ham,  tongue,  the  whitest  bread, 
appetizing  cheese,  doughnuts,  and  crumpets.  The 
company  partook  of  the  collation,  drank  each  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  then  ascended  to  the  roof  again. 

Berinthia  informed  Ruth  that  Tom  was  in  the  re- 
doubt. She  had  seen  him  through  the  telescope, 
standing  on  the  embankment  and  waving  his  hat. 

Lieutenant  Robert  Walden,  at  the  moment,  was 
five  miles  away,  in  Medford  town,  delivering  a  message 
to  Colonel  John  Stark  to  hasten  with  his  regiment  to 
Bunker  Hill. 


BUNKER  HILL.  295 

The  meetiughouse  bell  was  nnging  the  hour  of  uoon 
when  the  clrummer  beat  the  long  roll  for  the  parading 
of  the  regiment.  The  men  filed  past  the  quarter- 
master's tent  and  each  received  a  gill  of  powder  in  his 
horn.  And  then  with  quickened  step  they  crossed 
the  Mystic  and  hastened  along  the  road. 

With  the  shot  from  the  Symetry  screeching  around 
them,  tossing  the  gravel  in  their  faces,  the  men  from 
New  Hampshire  crossed  the  neck  of  land,  ascended 
the  hill,  and  came  into  position  by  a  low  stone  wall 
surmoiuited  by  rails.  Lieutenant  Walden's  com- 
pany was  nearest  the  Mystic  River.  Captain  Daniel 
Moore's  came  next  in  hue.  The  regiment  with  Colo- 
nel Reed's  New  Hampshire  regiment  extended  to  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  in  the  direction  of  the  redoubt. 

"  You  will  inform  Colonel  Prescott  that  I  have 
arrived  with  my  regiment  and  am  in  position,"  said 
Colonel  Stark. 

Riding  towards  the  redoubt,  Robert  saluted  General 
Putnam,  who,  mounted  on  a  white  horse,  was  going 
along  the  lines,  telling  the  men  to  keep  cool,  save  then- 
powder,  and  aim  at  the  cross-belts  of  the  British. 

It  was  a  pleasure  once  more  to  meet  Doctor  War- 
ren, who  had  been  appointed  general,  but  who  had 
come  as  a  volunteer  to  take  part  in  the  battle. 

Colonel  Prescott  thanked  Lieutenant  Walden  for 
the  information  sent  by  Colonel  Stark.  He  did  not 
doubt  the  men  from  New  Hampshire  would  be  as  true 
as  they  were  in  the  battles  of  Louisburg  and  Ticon- 
deroga.i 

1  There  is  no  evidence  that  Colonel  Stark  wjvs  directed  to  report  to 
Colonel  Prescott  or  any   one  eLse ;  neither  is  there   any    evidence  to 


296        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Dismounting  from  his  horse  and  giving  it  in  charge 
of  a  soldier,  Lieutenant  Walden  walked  along  the 
trench,  looked  over  the  embankment  upon  the  British 
troops  landing  at  Moulton's  Point  and  forming  in  two 
columns,  one  of  which,  he  concluded,  was  intending  to 
march  along  the  Mystic  to  gain  the  rear  of  the  redoubt 
and  cut  off  the  retreat  of  those  within  it.  If  such 
were  the  contemplated  movement  it  would  be  mainly 
against  the  regiments  of  Stark  and  Reed.  The  other 
body  of  troops  seemed  to  be  forming  to  advance  di- 
rectly upon  the  redoubt. 

While  he  was  thus  gazing,  a  hand  clasped  his  arm ; 
turning,  he  beheld  Tom  Brandon. 

"  I  've  been  wondering  if  you  would  n't  be  round 
here  somewhere,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  I  have  been  wondering  where  you  woidd  be," 
Robert  replied. 

"And  so  you  are  a  heutenant?"  queried  Tom, 
looking  at  the  epaulet  on  his  shoulder.  "  I  congrat- 
ulate you." 

"  The  whole  family  are  on  the  roof  to  see  the 
battle,"  he  continued. 

"  Perhajjs  you  can  bring  them  a  little  nearer  with  my 
telescope,"  said  Robert,  handing  him  the  instrument. 

Tom  rested  it  on  the  embankment  and  looked  to- 
wards the  house. 

show  that  Putnam  was  in  command.  We  only  know  that  Preseott 
was  directed  to  occupy  fliarlestown  Heights.  Later  in  the  war 
Putnam,  by  virtue  of  his  rank,  would  have  been  in  command,  or  pos- 
sibly Warren,  but  Warren  was  there  only  as  a  volunteer,  having  been 
appointed  general  the  day  before  the  battle.  It  seems  probable  that 
no  one  exei'cised  supreme  command,  but  Preseott,  Putnam,  Stark,  and 
I'eed  acted  individually  witli  their  separate  commands,  as  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  moment  demanded. 


BUNKER  HILL.  297 

"  There  's  a  crowd  of  'em  on  the  roof,"  he  said, 
"  father,  mother,  and  Berinthia  There  's  a  man  with 
a  white  wig,  —  Mr.  Newville,  I  guess  ;  and  there 's  a 
girl  talking  with  Berinthia  —  Ruth  Newville." 

With  quickened  pulse  Robert  adjusted  the  glass  to 
his  vision.  Others  than  those  mentioned  by  Tom 
were  upon  the  roof,  but  one  figure  alone  engaged  his 
attention.  Oh,  if  he  could  but  know  how  she  re- 
garded the  impending  battle !  Possibly  since  the 
events  on  Lexington  Green  and  at  Concord  bridge  her 
sympathies  had  been  with  the  king.  No,  he  could 
not  think  it.  The  instincts  of  one  so  noble,  good, 
and  large-hearted  must  ever  be  opposed  to  tyranny 
and  oppression.  Whether  favoring  or  opposing  the 
course  of  the  Colonies,  what  matter  to  him  ?  What 
probability  of  their  ever  meeting  again?  If  meet- 
ing, would  she  ever  be  other  than  an  old  acquaint- 
ance ?  Never  had  he  opened  liis  heart  to  her  ;  never 
by  word  or  deed  informed  her  that  she  was  all  the 
world  to  him.  To  her  he  would  be  only  a  friend  of 
other  days. 

He  could  see  a  taU  man  in  a  general's  uniform 
walking  along  the  British  lines.  He  halted,  took  off 
liis  cocked  hat,  stood  erect,  and  said  something  to  the 
soldiers.  He  concluded  it  was  General  Howe,  teUuig 
them  they  were  a  noble  body  of  men,  and  he  did  not 
doubt  they  would  show  themselves  valiant  soldiers. 
He  should  not  ask  them  to  go  any  farther  than  he 
himself  was  willing  to  go.  Robert  and  Tom  could 
hear  the  cheer  which  the  soldiers  gave  hun. 

The  columns  began  to  march,  —  that  commanded 
by  General  Howe  along  the  bank  of  the  Mystic  ;  that 


298       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

by  General  Pigot  straight  up  the  hill  towards  the 
redoubt. 

Robert  ran  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  horse, 
but  it  was  not  there.  He  hastened  down  the  slope, 
past  the  Connecticut  troops  under  Colonel  Knowlton, 
and  reported  to  Colonel  Stark,  who  was  directing  his 
soldiers  to  take  up  a  rail  fence  in  front  of  his  line 
and  reset  it  by  the  low  stone  wall,  and  fill  the  space 
between  the  fences  with  hay  from  the  windrows. 

"  It  will  serve  as  a  screen,"  he  said. 

Stepping  in  front  a  short  distance,  he  drove  a  stake 
in  the  ground. 

"  Don't  fu'e  till  the  redcoats  are  up  to  it,"  was  his 
order. 

The  sun  was  shining  from  a  cloudless  sky.  They 
upon  the  roof  of  the  Brandon  home  saw  the  scar- 
let columns  of  the  British  moving  along  the  Mys- 
tic and  towards  the  redoubt,  the  sunlight  gleaming 
from  their  muskets  and  bayonets,  the  flags  waving 
above  them,  the  men  keeping  step  to  the  drumbeat ; 
the  great  guns  of  the  fleet  and  those  on  Copp's  Hill 
flaming  and  thundering ;  white  powder-clouds  floating 
away  and  dissolving  in  thm  air.  They  saw  puffs  of 
smoke  burst  from  the  heads  of  the  advancing  colmnns 
and  heard  the  rattle  of  muskets.  Cannon-shot 
plowed  the  ground  and  tossed  up  the  gravel  around 
the  redoubt.  Only  the  six  cannon  of  the  provincials 
were  replying.  Nearer  moved  the  scarlet  line.  Again 
a  rattling  volley,  with  no  answering  musket  shot  from 
fences  or  embankment.  What  the  meaning  of  such 
silence  ?  Suddenly  a  line  of  light  streamed  from  the 
river  to  the  foot  of   the  hill,  and  like  the  lightning's 


BUNKER  HILL.  299 

flash  ran  along  the  embankment  and  round  the  re- 
doubt. A  rattle  and  roar  like  the  waves  of  the  sea 
upon  a  rocky  shore  came  to  their  ears  across  the  shin- 
ing waters.  Men  were  reeling  to  the  ground,  whole 
ranks  going  down  before  the  pitiless  storm.  The^ 
front  ranks  had  melted  away.  For  a  few  moments 
there  was  a  rattling  like  scattered  raindrops,  and 
then  another  lightning  flash,  and  the  British  were  flee- 
ing in  confusion. 

Mr.  Newville  clenched  his  hands. 

"  I  fear  the  kmg's  troops  are  discomfited,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Newville  with  a  long-drawn  sigh  covered  her 
face  with  her  handkerchief  as  if  to  shut  out  the  un- 
welcome spectacle. 

"  The  redcoats  are  beaten  !  "  Berinthia  exclaimed. 

"It  is  too  soon  to  say  that,  daughter.  The  battle 
is  not  yet  over ;  the  king's  troops  would  be  cowardly 
were  they  to  give  up  with  only  one  attempt." 

Like  a  statue,  her  hands  tightly  grasping  the  balus- 
trade, her  bosom  heaving  with  suppressed  emotion, 
Ruth  gazed  upon  the  spectacle,  uttering  no  exclama- 
tion. Taking  the  telescope,  she  turned  it  upon  the 
scene,  beholding  the  prostrate  forms  dotting  the  newly 
mown  fields.  It  was  not  difficidt  to  distinguish  Lord 
Howe,  the  centre  of  a  group  of  oflicers.  He  was  evi- 
dently issuing  orders  to  re-form  the  broken  lines. 
Colonels,  majors,  and  captains  were  rallying  the  dis- 
heartened men.  In  the  intervals  of  the  cannonade 
from  the  fleet  a  confused  hum  of  voices  could  be 
heard,  officers  shouting  their  orders.  Beyond  the 
prostrate  forms,  behind  the  low  stone  wall  and  screen 
of  hay  were  the  provincials,  biding  their  time.     Offi- 


300       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

cers  were  walking  to  and  fro,  —  one  middle-aged,  with 
a  colonel's  epaulets,  evidently  commanding  the  troops 
nearest  the  Mystic  River.  A  subordinate  officer  of 
manly  form  was  receiving  orders  and  ti-ansmitting 
•them  to  others.  Where  had  she  seen  one  like  him? 
Long  she  gazed  with  imwonted  bloom  upon  her  cheeks. 

Again  the  scarlet  lines  advanced,  —  the  foremost 
platoons  halting,  firing,  filing  right  and  left,  that 
those  in  the  rear  might  reach  the  front.  Unmiudful 
of  the  bullets  pattering  arovmd  him,  the  young  officer 
walked  composedly  along  the  provincial  line,  from 
which  came  no  answering  shot.  Seemingly  he  was 
telling  the  men  to  wait.  Suddenly,  as  before,  the 
screen  of  hay  became  a  sheet  of  flame,  and  the  scarlet 
ranks  again  dissolved  like  a  straw  in  a  candle's  flame, 
whole  ranks  reeling  and  falling,  or  fleeing  to  the  place 
of  landing. 

Mr.  Newville  groaned  aloud.  Again  Mrs.  New- 
ville  covered  her  face.  Captain  Brandon,  Mrs.  Bran- 
don, and  Berinthia,  out  of  respect  to  their  guests,  gave 
no  sign  of  exultation ;  but  from  windows,  roofs,  door- 
ways, and  steeples,  like  the  voice  of  many  waters,  came 
the  joyful  murmur  of  the  multitude,  revealing  to  Gen- 
eral Gage,  up  in  the  tower  of  Christ  Church,  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  people  with  the  provincials. 

No  exclamation  of  satisfaction  or  disappointment 
fell  from  the  lij^s  of  Ruth,  still  looking  with  the  tele- 
scope towards  the  provincial  line  by  the  Mystic,  and 
the  manly  figure  of  the  officer  recei\ang  instinictions 
from  his  superior. 

There  was  a  commotion  among  the  troops  in  the 
burial  aroiind  before  them. 


BUNKER  HILL.  301 

«  Fall  in  I  Fall  in  !  "  General  Clinton  shouted. 
They  hastily  formed  in  column  and  marched  down  the 
steep  descent  to  the  ferry  landing.  From  the  tower 
of  Christ  Church,  together  with  General  Gage,  Clin- 
ton had  seen  the  discomfiture  of  Lord  Howe  and  Gen- 
eral Pigot,  and,  with  three  hundred  men,  was  hastening 
to  reinforce  them,  stepping  into  boats  and  crossing  the 
river. 

The  people  on  the  housetops  needed  no  telescopes 
to  see  what  was  going  on  across  the  stream.  Slowly 
the  lines  re-formed,  the  men  reluctantly  taking  their 
places.  They  who  had  fought  at  Ticonderoga,  who 
had  won  the  victory  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham  at 
Quebec,  never  had  faced  so  pitiless  a  storm. 

"  It  is  downright  murder,"  said  the  men. 

They  upon  the  housetops  could  see  the  British  offi- 
cers flourisliing  their  swords,  gesticulating,  and  even 
striking  the  disheartened  soldiers,  compelling  them  to 
stand  once  more  in  the  ranks.  Twice  they  had  ad- 
vanced, encumbered  with  then*  knapsacks,  in  accord- 
ance with  strict  military  rule ;  now  they  were  laying 
them  aside.  There  were  fewer  men  in  the  ranks  than 
at  the  beginning  of  the  battle,  but  the  honor  of  Eng- 
land was  at  stake.  The  rabble  of  undisciplined  coun- 
try bumpkins  must  be  driven  from  their  position,  or 
the  troops  of  England  woidd  be  forever  disgraced. 
General  Howe  had  learned  wisdom.  He  had  thought 
to  sweep  aside  the  line  of  provincials  behind  the  low 
stone  wall,  gain  the  rear,  cut  off  the  retreat  of  those  in 
the  redoubt,  capture  them,  and  win  a  notable  victory. 
He  had  not  expected  such  resistance,  such  a  destruc- 
tive fire  as  had  gTeeted  the  light  infantry  along  the 


302       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

banks  of  the  stream.  In  the  two  attempts,  he  had  dis- 
covered the  weak  place  in  the  provincial  line,  —  the 
space  between  the  redoubt  and  the  low  stone  wall.  In 
planning  the  third  movement,  he  resolved  to  make 
a  feint  of  advancing  once  more  towards  the  wall, 
but  would  concentrate  his  attack  upon  the  redoubt, 
and  especially  upon  that  portion  of  the  line  least  de- 
fended. 

The  simimer  sun,  shining  from  a  cloudless  sky,  was 
declining  towards  the  western  horizon.  It  was  past 
four  o'clock  before  the  lines  were  ready.  Once  more 
the  g"uns  of  the  fleet  hurled  solid  shot  and  shells  upon 
the  redoubt.  Captain  Brandon,  looking  from  his 
housetop  down  upon  the  guns  almost  beneath  him, 
saw  a  gunner  ranuning  an  inflanunable  shell  into  the 
cannon.  The  shell,  with  smoking  torch,  screamed 
across  the  river,  aimed  not  at  the  bank  of  yellow  earth 
on  Bunker  Hill,  but  at  the  houses  in  Charlestown. 

'*  They  intend  to  burn  the  village,"  he  said. 

Soon  flames  were  bursting  from  window,  doorway, 
and  roof.  The  ^dnd,  blowing  from  the  south,  carried 
sparks  and  cinders  to  the  adjoining  houses,  glowing  in 
the  summer  heat.  A  wail  of  horror  from  the  people 
rent  the  air. 

'••  That  is  mean,  cruel,  wicked,  dastardly ! "  ex- 
claimed Kuth,  with  flashing  eyes.  "  It  's  inhuman. 
I  shall  hate  the  man  who  has  ordered  it."  ^ 

Thi'ough  the  previous  stages  of  the  conflict  no 
word  of  ajjproval  or  disapproval  had  escaped  her  lips. 

'  The  only  defpiise  of  the  British  for  the  destruction  of  Charles- 
town  is  the  assertion  that  tlie  advancinjf  troops  were  fired  upon  by 
provincials  secreted  in  one  of  the  houses  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 


BUNKER  HILL.  303 

"  Ruth !  Ruth !  Don't  say  that !  "  Mr.  Newville 
cried,  astonished  by  such  an  outburst  of  indignation. 

"  If  General  Gage  were  here  I  would  say  it  to  his 
face.  What  have  those  people  done  that  their  homes 
should  be  destroyed  ?  They  are  not  fighting  the  bat- 
tle. Does  he  think  that  by  burning  the  town  he  will 
frighten  those  men  in  the  redoubt  into  submission? 
Were  I  one  of  them,  I  would  die  before  I  would  sur- 
render." 

Her  eyes  were  flashing.  In  her  earnestness  she 
had  removed  her  hat.  The  gentle  breeze  was  fanning 
her  heated  brow.  She  stood  erect,  a  queen  in  her 
dignity  and  beauty.  Never  had  Mr.  and  Mrs.  New- 
ville dreamed  that  there  was  such  pent-up  fire  in  her 
soul,  such  energy,  fearlessness,  and  instinctive  com- 
prehension of  justice  and  right.  Captain  and  Mrs. 
Brandon,  Berinthia,  and  all  around  gazed  upon  her 
wonderingly  and  with  admiration. 

The  fire  was  sweeping  on,  —  leaping  from  building 
to  building,  licking  up  houses,  stables,  and  workshop, 
reaching  the  meetinghouse,  kindling  the  shingles  on 
its  roof,  the  clapboards  upon  its  walls,  bursting  from 
doors  and  windows,  climbing  the  spire  to  the  gilded 
vane,  burning  tiU  beams  and  timbers  gave  way; 
then  came  the  crash,  —  a  single  stroke  of  the  bell 
tolling  as  it  were  a  requiem. 

Under  the  cloud  from  the  burning  town  the  scarlet 
lines  once  more  advanced,  —  not  towards  the  screen 
of  hay,  but  in  the  direction  of  the  redoubt.  With 
the  glass  Ruth  saw  the  manly  figure  she  had  seen 
before,  seemingly  receiving  instructions  from  his  su- 
perior  officer,  and   running   towards  the  threatened 


304       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

point  of  attack.  The  scarlet  lines  were  mounting  the 
breastwork.  Men  were  firing  in  each  other's  faces; 
thrusting  with  the  bayonet.  She  could  see  a  stal- 
wart provincial  in  his  shirt-sleeves  beat  out  the 
brains  of  a  Britisher  with  the  butt  of  his  musket,  and 
the  next  moment  go  down  with  a  bayonet  through 
his  heart.  The  manly  figure  was  in  the  thick  of  the 
melee,  —  a  half  dozen  redcoats  rushing  upon  him. 
His  sword  was  flashing  in  the  sunlight  as  he  parried 
their  bayonets,  keeping  them  at  bay.  Guns  flashed, 
and  the  white  powder-cloud  shut  out  the  scene. 
When  it  cleared,  he  had  gone  down,  and  the  red- 
coats were  swinging  their  hats.  Their  shout  of  vic- 
tory came  across  the  waters.  Those  around  saw  Ruth 
clasp  her  hand  upon  her  heart. 

"  They  are  beaten,  and  he  is  shot !  "  she  cried,  sink- 
ing into  Berinthia's  arms. 

"  Who  's  shot?"  her  mother  asked.  There  was  no 
answer  from  the  quivering  lips. 

'•'  The  excitement  is  too  much  for  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Xewville,  as  they  bore  her  to  Berinthia's  chamber. 


XX. 

WHEN   THE   TIDE   WAS    GOING   OUT. 

Tom  Brandon,  lying  upon  the  green  grass  where 
the  provincials  had  halted  after  the  retreat,  recalled 
the  events  of  the  day  with  his  fellow  soldiers,  espe- 
cially the  last  struggle.  He  had  fired  away  his  pow- 
der, as  had  many  others.  He  had  no  bayonet,  and 
could  only  defend  himself  with  the  butt  of  his  gim. 
He  remembered  how  bravely  Doctor  Warren  behaved, 
telling  the  men  to  keep  cool ;  how  he  took  bandages 
from  his  pockets,  and  bound  up  the  wounds  of  those 
disabled  at  the  beginning ;  how  a  Britisher  shot  him 
down  and  stabbed  him  with  a  bayonet.  As  for  him- 
self, he  hardly  knew  what  he  did,  except  to  fight  till 
almost  the  last  of  his  comrades  left  the  redoubt,  when 
he  leaped  over  the  breastwork,  and  walked  towards 
the  British,  approaching  the  western  side  as  if  to 
give  himself  up,  then  turned  and  ran  as  fast  as  he 
could,  with  the  bullets  whizzing  past  him.^     He  won- 

'  The  experience  of  Tom  Brandon  was  that  of  Eliakim  Walker  of 
Tewksbury,  Mass.,  as  naiTated  by  him  to  the  author :  — 

"  I  had  fired  away  nearly  all  my  powder  before  the  last  attack.  I 
fired  and  was  reloading  my  gun,  when  I  heard  a  hurrah  behind  me. 
I  looked  round  and  saw  the  redcoats  leaping  over  the  breastwork. 
I  saw  a  man  beat  out  the  brains  of  a  Britisher  with  the  butt  of  his 
gun  ;  the  next  moment  they  stabbed  him.  Seeing  I  could  n't  get  out 
that  way,  I  jumped  over  the  breastwork  and  ran  towards  Pigot's 
men,  a  rod  or  two,  then  turned  and  ran  as  fast  as  I  could  the  other 


306       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

dered  if  Lieutenant  Walden  had  escaped  iinhamied. 
He  walked  a  little  way  to  Colonel  Stark's  regiment 
to  inquire. 

"  I  fear,"  said  Captain  Daniel  Moore,  "  that  Lieu- 
tenant Walden  has  been  kUled.  During  the  day  he 
took  a  conspicuous  part.  He  was  sent  by  General 
Ward  to  summon  us  from  Medford.  He  carried 
several  messages  from  Colonel  Stark  to  Prescott  and 
Putnam,  and  was  with  the  men  of  his  company  at 
times.  He  was  with  us  just  before  the  last  assault, 
and  hastened  towards  the  redoubt  a  moment  before 
the  redcoats  swarmed  over  it.  I  fear  the  worst, 
for  he  was  very  brave." 

The  people  of  Boston  never  had  beheld  such  a 
scene  as  that  of  the  day  following  the  battle.  .  The 
sun  shone  from  a  cloudless  sky,  but  its  rays  fell  upon 
the  smouldering  ruins  of  once  happy  homes ;  upon 
dying  and  dead  soldiers ;  upon  men  groaning  in 
agony  as  they  were  transported  across  the  Charles  to 
houses  taken  for  hospitals.  The  wounded  rebels  — 
thirty-six  in  number  —  were  laid  upon  the  bare  floor 
of  the  jail.  They  were  to  be  treated  as  felons,  and 
given  prison  fare. 

Although  the  genial  rays  of  the  sun  shone  into  the 
spacious  apartments  of  the  Province  House,  they 
gave  no  comfort  to  Thomas  Gage,  commander-in-chief 
of  Ills  majesty's  forces  in  the  Colonies.  He  was 
cliagrined  over  the  outcome  of  the  battle,  the  losses 
sustained.      His  own  officers  were  criticising  the  plan 

way.  The  l)ullets  whizzed  past  me,  or  struck  the  ground  around 
inc.  I  reached  a  rail  fence,  and  pitched  over  it.  A  bullet  struck  a 
rail  at  tlie  moment.  I  fell  on  the  other  side,  laid  still  till  I  got  my 
hreatli.  tlien  up  and  legged  it  again,  and  got  away."' 


WHEN  THE   TIDE    WAS  GOING   OUT.       307 

of  attack.  The  soldiers  said  he  had  slaughtered  their 
comrades.  The  people  were  condemnmg  him  for 
having  burned  Charlestown.  He  was  conscious  that 
he  had  gone  down  in  the  estimation  of  those  who  had 
given  him  loyal  support.  He  knew  that  his  military 
reputation  had  suffered  an  eclipse.  Women  were 
denouncing  him  as  cruel  and  inhuman.  The  convic- 
tion came  to  General  Gage  that  he  was  shut  up  in 
Boston,  and  that  any  attempt  upon  the  position  of 
the  rebels  at  that  point,  or  upon  the  hills  beyond 
Charlestown,  woidd  result  in  disaster. 

It  was  cheering  ne^s  to  Tom  Brandon  and  all  the 
soldiers  of  the  provincial  army,  a  few  days  later,  to 
learn  that  CongTCss,  sitting  in  Philadelphia,  had 
selected  George  Washington  of  Virginia  to  command 
them.  His  coming  was  evidence  that  all  the  Colonies 
had  united  to  resist  the  aggressions  of  the  king.  He 
fought  bravely  to  drive  the  French  from  the  valley 
of  the  Ohio,  and  saved  the  army  in  the  battle  near 
Fort  Du  Quesne.  General  Gage  had  been  with  him 
in  that  engagement,  but  now  they  would  command 
opposing  armies. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer  morning,  the  3d  of 
July,  when  the  regiments  in  Cambridge  and  some  of 
the  troops  from  Roxbury  assembled  on  the  Common 
at  Cambridge  to  receive  General  Washington.  Tom 
Brandon  saw  a  tall,  broad-shoiddered  man,  sitting 
erect  on  a  white  horse,  wearing  a  blue  uniform 
trimmed  with  buff,  accompanied  by  General  Putnam, 
General  Ward,  and  a  large  number  of  officers,  ride 
out  from  General  Ward's  headquarters  and  take  posi- 
tion under  a  great  elm-tree. 


308       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Attention,  the  army  I  "  shouted  General  Ward. 

The  officers  repeated  it,  and  every  soldier  stood 
erect. 

"  Salute  your  commander,  Major-General  George 
Washington !  " 

The  soldiers  presented  arms,  the  fifes  began  to  play, 


Where   Washington  assumed  Command. 

the  drums  to  rattle.  General  Washington  lifted  his 
hat,  bowed  right  and  left,  di-ew  his  sword  from  its 
scabbard,  and  rode  along  the  line.  The  soldiers  saw 
dignity,  decision,  and  energy,  yet  calmness,  in  all  his 
movements.  They  knew  lie  had  a  gi'eat  plantation  on 
the  bank  of  the  Potomac  River  in  Virginia ;  that  he 
could  live  at  ease  and  enjoy  life  in  hunting  and  fish- 
ing at  his  own  pleasure,  but  he  had  left  all  at  the  call 
of  Congress  to  take  command  of  the  army.      His  com- 


WHEN  THE   TIDE   WAS  GOING  OUT.      309 

ing  gave  them  confidence  and  made  them  more  than 
ever  determined  to  drive  the  redcoats  out  of  Boston. 
They  kept  such  a  strict  guard  that  the  British  could 
not  obtain  fresh  provisions,  neither  could  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  town.  In  the  home  of  Captain  Brandon, 
the  only  meat  to  be  had  was  the  salt  pork  and  beef  in 
the  cellar,  or  the  flounders  caught  by  Mai'k  Antony, 
fishing  from  the  wharves. 

Even  General  Gage  could  have  no  great  variety 
of  food.  In  contrast  to  this,  Tom  Brandon  and  his 
fellow  soldiers  were  living  luxuriously,  having  fresh 
beef  three  times  a  week,  with  flour,  peas,  beans,  rice, 
potatoes,  onions,  cabbages,  turnips,  beets,  spruce  beer, 
and  grog,  and  plenty  of  tobacco. 

Tom  took  his  turn  standing  guard,  and  foimd  plea- 
sure in  chaffing  the  lobsters  on  picket,  telling  them 
what  he  had  for  dinner.  A  thought  came  to  him,  — 
to  write  a  letter  and  hire  a  redcoat  to  take  it  to  his 
father.  He  wrote  about  the  battle ;  how  he  saw  the 
family  on  the  roof  of  the  house,  from  the  redoubt, 
just  before  it  began ;  how  he  escaped ;  how  Robert 
Walden  went  down  in  the  thick  of  the  fight  and  prob- 
ably had  been  buried  with  the  others  somewhere  on 
Bunker  HiU.  The  Britisher  gladly  agreed  to  take 
the  letter  to  Copp's  Hill  for  the  plug  of  tobacco  which 
Tom  gave  him. 

Mark  Antony,  the  following  afternoon,  wondered 
what  the  soldier  who  was  rattling  the  knocker  on  the 
front  door  might  want. 

"  Here 's  a  letter  for  your  master.  Captain  Brandon. 
One  of  the  rebs  gave  it  to  me.  Maybe  it 's  from  his 
son,"  said  the  soldier. 


310       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  A  letter  from  Massa  Tom,"  shouted  the  negro, 
dancing  into  the  sitting-room. 

Captain  Brandon  thanked  the  soldier,  and  told 
Mark  Antony  to  mix  a  toddy  for  him. 

It  was  gratifjong  to  know  that  Tom  was  safe,  but 
sad  the  information  that  Lieutenant  Walden  was 
numbered  among  the  killed. 

The  fair  brow  of  Ruth  Newville  through  the  sum- 
mer months  had  been  gromng  whiter  day  by  day. 

"  I  fear  she  is  not  well,"  said  Mr.  Newville. 

"  The  battle,  the  burning  of  Charlestown,  —  the 
terrible  spectacle  was  too  much  for  her  nerves,"  Mrs. 
Newville  rephed. 

"  Ought  we  not  to  call  in  the  doctor  ?  " 

"  No,  she  is  not  sick ;  you  know  how  sympathetic 
she  is.  Don't  you  remember  what  she  said  when  she 
saw  the  to^\^l  in  flames,  —  even  speaking  disrespect- 
fully of  General  Gage,  and  swooning  when  the  king's 
troops  won  the  victory.  The  burning  of  so  many 
houses  has  unstrung  her  nerves.  I  trust  she  will  soon 
get  over  it.  Since  the  battle  she  has  spent  most  of 
her  time  in  her  chamber  and  has  pleaded  indisposi- 
tion when  gentlemen,  especially  officers,  have  called." 

"  Miss  Ruth  wants  you  to  come  up  de  stairs  to  her 
chamber,"  said  Pompey,  when  Berinthia  called  at  the 
Newville  home  to  show  her  the  letter  Tom  had  written. 

"  So  you  have  heard  from  Tom  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  he  says  that  Robert  Walden  was  killed 
at  the  very  last  of  the  battle." 

''  It  is  as  I  said.  I  saw  him  go  down  and  their 
feet  trample  hiui  in  the  dust !  " 


WHEN   THE   TIDE    WAS  GOING  OUT.       311 

"  Was  it  Robert  you  saw  ?  " 

"Yes.  With  the  telescope  I  had  seen  him  all 
through  the  battle,  walking  unharmed  where  the  bul- 
lets were  flying  thickest." 

"  You  did  not  teU  us  you  saw  him." 
"  No.     I  did  not  want  to  alarm  you." 
"  And  you  saw  him  when  he  was  killed  ?  " 
"  I  saw  his   sword  flashing  in  the  sunlight  as  the 
men  in  scarlet  closed  aroimd  him.     A  half  dozen  were 
thrusting  with  their  bayonets,  and  yet  he  kept  them 
at  bay  till  they  shot  him." 

Tears  had  wet  her  piUow,  but  none  glistened  on 
her  eyelids  now.  Through  the  sleepless  hours  she 
had  seen  the  stars  go  down  beneath  the  western  hori- 
zon ;  in  like  manner  something  bright  and  shining- 
had  gone  out  of  her  life.  The  stars  would  reappear ; 
but  that  which  had  made  it  beautiful  to  live  never 
woidd  return.  The  words  "  I  love  you  "  would  never 
be  spoken  by  a  voice  forever  silent. 
Berinthia  kissed  the  tremulous  lips. 
"  I  see  it  now,  Ruth,  dear ;  you  loved  him." 
"  Yes,  I  loved  him.  He  was  so  noble  and  true, 
how  could  I  help  it  ?  He  never  said  he  loved  me,  and 
yet  I  think  down  deep  in  his  heart  he  had  a  place  for 
me.  I  never  have  confessed  it  before,  not  even  to 
myself.  I  say  it  to  you,  because  I  should  die  if  I 
coidd  not  have  some  one  to  whom  I  could  tell  my  sor- 
row.    Let  it  be  our  secret,  ours  alone." 

Through  the  sultry  days  of  August  the  streets 
were  silent,  except  the  beating  of  drums  as  other 
regiments  arrived,  or  as  soldiers  dying  from  wounds 
or  disease  were  borne  to  their  burial.     The  distress  of 


312       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

the  people  could  but  increase.  The  provincials 
wounded  in  the  battle  were  still  held  as  felons  in  the 
jail.  They  were  dying  very  fast.  It  was  a  spirited 
letter  which  the  British  commander  received  from 
General  Washington,  informing  him  that  unless  the 
prisoners  were  treated  more  humanely,  British  prison- 
ers woidd  be  dealt  wdth  accordingly .1 

Many  times  Abraham  Duncan  asked  permission  to 
see  the  prisoners  confined  in  the  jail,  that  he  might 
minister  to  their  needs  and  do  something  for  their 
comfort  and  welfare,  but  as  often  had  he  been  refused 
by  the  gruff  red-coated  sergeant  in  charge.  Once  more, 
after  learning  what  General  Washington  had  done, 
he  asked  permission,  received  a  pass  from  the  provost- 
marshal,  and  was  admitted.  He  saw  the  floor  was 
covered  with  prostrate  forms,  men  with  simken  eyes, 
emaciated  hands,  a  few  with  old  quilts  beneath  them, 
others  upon  the  bare  planks.  There  were  festering 
wounds  and  cheeks  hot  with  the  flush  of  fever.  Some 
of  the  sufferers  gazed  upon  him  wonderingly,  others 
heeded  not  his  coming.  One,  whose  uniform  was  stiU 
soiled  with  the  dust  of  the  battlefield,  lay  with  closed 
eyes,  minding  not  his  presence. 

"  His  wound  has  about  healed,  but  he  is  going  with 
fever.  He  was  fine-looking  when  brought  here  the 
day  after  the  battle,  but  he  is  about  done  for.  After 
to-morrow  we  shall  have  one  less  to  exchange  with  Mr. 
Washington,"  said  the  sergeant. 

^  Reverend  Andrew  Eliot,  minister  of  the  New  North  Church,  re- 
mained in  Boston.  The  following  is  from  a  letter  to  Samuel  Eliot 
under  date  of  September  0. 1175  :  "  I  am  at  length  allowed  to  visit 
the  prisoners.  They  are  only  eleven  out  of  thirty."'  Proceedings 
ifdss.  Hist.  S<jc.  vol.  xvi. 


WHEN  THE  TIDE   WAS  GOING   OUT.      313 

Abraham  stooped  and  parted  the  matted  beard 
from  the  fevered  lips,  and  laid  back  the  tangled  hair 
from  the  brow.  The  eyes  wearily  opened,  gazed  lan- 
guidly, then  wonderingly. 

"  Do  you  know  me  ?  " 

The  words  were  faintly  spoken. 

"  Know  you !     What,  Robert  Walden !  " 

There  was  not  strength  in  the  arm  sufficient  to  lift 
the  weary  hand.  Abraham  grasped  it,  looked  one 
moment  at  the  closing  eyes,  and  hastened  from  the 
room.  Breathless  with  running,  he  reached  the  Bran- 
don home,  telling  the  story. 

"  We  must  have  him  brought  here  instantly ;  he 
must  not  die  there,"  said  Mr.  Brandon,  who  accom- 
panied Abraham  to  the  jail,  only  to  find  that  the  ser- 
geant in  charge  could  not  permit  the  removal.  Sadly 
they  returned. 

"I  must  teU  Ruth  about  it,"  said  Berinthia,  putting 
on  her  bonnet  and  hastening  from  the  house. 

Ruth  was  sitting  in  her  chamber.  A  strange,  yet 
sweet  peace  had  come  into  her  soul.  The  heart  that 
had  struggled  so  sorely  was  at  rest.  She  was  repeat- 
ing to  herself  the  words  spoken  by  the  world's  best 
friend,  "  My  peace  I  leave  you ;  not  as  the  world 
giveth,  give  I  unto  you." 

The  summer  birds  were  no  longer  singing ;  the  swal- 
lows had  gone.  The  melocotoons  were  no  longer  upon 
the  trees,  neither  the  early  pears  and  ripening  apples ; 
the  soldiers  had  plucked  them.  Her  father's  face  was 
growing  grave  ;  her  mother's  step  less  elastic.  There 
was  sorrow  and  desolation  around  her,  and  yet  she  was 
happy.     She  saw  Berinthia  walking  up  the  path. 


314       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Come  right  up,"  the  cheerful  invitation  from  the 
chamber  window. 

"  Oh,  Ruth,  I  've  something  to  tell  you.  He  's 
alive ! " 

"Who?" 

"  Robert  —  a  prisoner  in  the  jail." 

She  told  the  story;  he  was  still  breathing,  but  dy- 
ing. Her  father  had  been  to  get  him,  but  no  prisoner 
coidd  be  removed  without  an  order  from  General  Gage. 

"  We  will  go  to  the  Province  House,"  said  Ruth 
quietly,  rising  and  putting  on  her  bonnet. 

Her  calmness,  the  manifest  quiet,  the  business-like 
procedure  of  Ruth,  amazed  Berinthia.  They  hastened 
to  the  governor's  home.  General  Gage  received 
them  courteously.  He  was  pleased  to  welcome  Miss 
Newville  to  the  Province  House,  and  recalled  with 
pleasure  the  evening  when  he  had  the  honor  to  escort 
her  to  her  father's  hospitable  table. 

"  I  have  a  favor  to  ask,"  said  Ruth,  "  which  I  am 
sure  your  excellency  will  be  pleased  to  grant.  One  of 
your  prisoners.  Lieutenant  Robert  Walden,  in  the  jail, 
is  a  cousin  of  my  friend  Miss  Brandon.  I  learn  that 
he  is  far  gone  with  fever  and  seemingly  has  not  many 
hours  to  live,  and  I  have  come  to  ask  if  you  will 
kindly  permit  his  removal  to  her  home  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,  my  dear  Miss  Newville  ;  it  gives 
nie  pleasure  to  do  this  little  office  for  you  and  your 
friend,"  he  replied. 

General  Gage  touched  a  bell  and  a  sergeant  entered 
the  apartment. 

"  Sergeant,  take  two  men  of  the  guard,  with  a  bier, 
o.nd  accompany  these  ladies  to  the  jail  to  remove  one 


WHEN  THE   TIDE   WAS  GOING   OUT.       315 

of  the  sick  prisoners,  as  they  shall  direct.  See  to  it 
that  the  man  is  gently  handled.  Here  is  the  order  of 
delivery  for  the  officer  in  charge." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  General,  and  I  thank  you  not 
only  for  Miss  Brandon,  but  for  myself,"  said  Ruth. 

Never  before  had  the  people  living  along  Hanover 
Street  seen  such  a  spectacle  as  that  a  few  minutes 
later,  —  a  sergeant  in  advance,  two  soldiers  bearing  a 
rebel  officer,  worn  and  wasted  by  disease,  his  life  ebb- 
ing away,  and  two  ladies  looking  anxiously  to  see  if 
the  flickering  life  would  last  a  little  longer. 

In  Tom's  chamber  the  soiled  uniform  was  removed, 
the  matted  hair  laid  back,  the  parched  lips  moistened, 
the  unconscious  invalid  clothed  in  linen  white  and 
clean.  A  doctor  came,  bowed  his  ear  to  Robert's 
breast  to  catch  the  beating  of  the  heart,  and  moistened 
the  parched  lips. 

"  Fever  has  burned  him  up.  The  tide  is  nearly  out. 
It  is  only  a  question  of  a  few  hours,"  he  said. 

Through  the  night,  Ruth,  sitting  by  his  bedside,  in 
the  calm  and  stillness,  heard  the  clock  strike  the  pass- 
ing hours.  At  times  she  heard,  through  the  open 
windows,  the  faint  ripple  of  the  surf  rolling  in  from 
the  restless  sea.  Soon  for  him  the  waves  of  life  would 
break  upon  a  shoreless  ocean.  It  was  her  hand  that 
fanned  him ;  that  wiped  the  death-damp  from  his  fore- 
head ;  dropped  the  refreshing  cordial  on  his  tongue ; 
held  the  mirror  to  his  no^strils  to  ascertain  if  still, 
perchance,  he  breathed.  The  tides  of  the  ocean  had 
reached  their  farthest  ebb  and  were  setting  towards 
the  flood  once  more,  bringing  sweet  and  refreshing 
odors   from  the  ever-heaving  sea.     The  night  winds 


816       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

were  drying  the  dampness  from  the  marble  brow. 
Day  was  dawning,  its  amber  light  flowing  along  the 
horizon.  The  fluttering  heart  was  beating  more 
strongly  ;  more  deep  the  breathing. 

"  Oh,  'Rinthia !  He  is  n't  going ;  he 's  coming  back. 
God  has  heard  my  prayer,"  said  Ruth. 

The  sun  was  rising,  and  its  rays  streaming  into  the 
chamber.  The  closed  eyes  slowly  opened  and  gazed 
wonderingly.  Where  was  he  ?  What  the  meaning 
of  this  flood  of  light?  No  longer  straggling  beams 
through  iron-grated  windows,  no  longer  the  bare  floor 
and  earth-polluted  garments,  but  linen  white  and  clean. 
Was  it  an  angel  bending  over  him,  — whose  eyes  of 
love  and  infinite  tenderness  looked  into  his  own? 
Was  it  one  of  the  seraphim  that  pressed  her  lips  to 
his,  that  dropped  tears  upon  his  cheeks?  Were  there 
tears  in  Heaven  ?  Surely  this  must  be  Paradise ! 
The  eyes  closed,  the  vision  faded,  but  the  angel  still 
was  fanning  the  fevered  cheeks. 

As  shone  the  face  of  Moses,  the  lawgiver  of  Israel, 
when  he  descended  from  the  Mount  of  God,  so  the 
countenance  of  Ruth  Newville  was  illuminated  by  a 
divine  radiance  when  once  more  she  entered  her  home. 
During  the  night  she  had  been  transfigured. 

"  What  has  happened,  daughter  ?  "  her  father 
asked. 

"Where  have  you  been?  what  is  it?"  the  excla- 
mation of  the  mother,  gazing  with  wonder  and  amaze- 
ment upon  the  face  of  her  child. 

"  Sit  down,  please,  and  I  will  tell  you.  I  must  go 
back  to  the  l)eginning.  Do  you  remember  a  day,  six 
years    ago,  one    September  afternoon,  when   I  came 


WHEN  THE   TIDE   WAS  GOING   OUT.      317 

into  the  house  greatly  agitated?  and  when  you 
asked,  as  you  have  now,  what  had  happened,  I  woidd 
not  make  reply  ?  " 

"Yes,  Ruth,  and  you  have  been  a  mystery  to  me 
ever  since  that  afternoon,"  said  Mrs.  Newville. 

"I  would  not  tell  you  then  that  I  had  been  insidted 
by  ruffian  soldiers,  that  a  stranger  had  rescued  me 
from  their  clutches,  for  I  knew  it  would  trouble  you. 
Who  the  gentleman  was  I  did  not  know.  I  only  saw 
he  was  noble  and  manly.  I  thanked  him  and  has- 
tened away.  Right  after  that  we  had  our  last  gar- 
den party,  to  which  'Rinthia  brought  her  cousin,  Mr. 
Walden,  when  I  discovered  it  was  he  who  rescued 
me." 

"  Mr.  Walden  !  "  Mrs.  Newville  exclaimed. 

"  A  noble  young  man  !  I  always  liked  his  appear- 
ance," said  Mr.  Newville. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  us  about  it,  Ruth,  so  we 
could  have  shown  him  some  attention?"  Mrs.  New- 
ville asked. 

"  It  is  not  too  late  to  do  it  now,  mother." 

She  told  the  story,  that  he  was  a  lieutenant,  a  pris- 
oner, wounded,  hovering  between  life  and  death ;  how 
she  had  brought  about  his  removal  from  the  jail  to 
the  Brandon  home,  watched  over  him  during  the 
night,  wondering  if  the  next  moment  would  not  be  the 
last ;  that  just  before  sunrise  the  tide  had  turned  and 
he  was  going  to  live. 

"  You  saving  him !  Wonderful !  "  Mrs.  Newville 
exclaimed. 

"  It  is  just  like  you,  daughter,"  said  the  father, 
clasping  his  arms  around  her  and  kissing  her  lips. 


318       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  will  go  and  help  care  for  him,  even  if  he  is  a 
rebel,"  said  Mrs.  Newville. 

"  Ruth,  daughter,"  said  the  father,  when  they  were 
alone,  "  did  you  keep  that  to  yourself  because  you 
thought  it  would  trouble  us  to  hear  that  the  soldiers 
of  King  George  were  vile  ruffians  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father  ;  I  knew  your  loyalty  to  the  king,  and 
I  would  not  tlisturb  it.  I  did  not  want  to  pain  you. 
And  do  you  wonder  I  have  hated  the  sight  of  a  red- 
coat ever  since?  But,  father  dear,  it  was  not  the 
assaidt  of  the  villains  that  led  me  to  sympathize  with 
the  provincials,  as  you  know  I  have  done,  but  the 
conviction  that  they  were  in  the  right  and  the  king  and 
his  ministers  in  the  wrong.  I  can  imderstand  why 
you  and  mother  do  not  see  the  conflict  as  I  see  it. 
Your  high  sense  of  honor,  your  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  king,  your  position  as  an  official,  have  made  you 
loyal  and  true  to  King  George,  and  you  cannot  see  the 
side  espoused  by  the  people.  This  attempt  of  the 
ministry  and  king  to  subdue  them  by  force  of  arms, 
by  burning  their  houses,  by  treating  them  as  felons, 
as  they  have  Robert  Walden,  thrusting  them  into 
jail,  allowing  them  to  die  uncared  for,  will  fail ;  jus- 
tice and  right  are  on  their  side.  I  know  it  pains 
you,  father  dear,  to  have  me  say  this,  but  I  could 
not,  even  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  you,  be  false  to  my- 
self." 

'•  I  would  not  have  you  be  false  to  yourself,  my 
child,  but  always  true  to  your  con\actions,  no  matter 
what  may  liappen."  He  drew  her  to  him  and  tenderly 
caressed  her. 

"  I  see  it  now,  daughter.     For  a  long  while  I  have 


WHEN  THE   TIDE   WAS  GOING  OUT.       319 

not  been  able  to  comprehend  you,  but  it  is  plain  at 
last." 

They  sat  in  silence,  her  head  pillowed  on  his  breast, 
his  arm  arovmd  her. 

"  Ruth,  daughter,  I  suspect  you  have  not  told  me 
all ;  you  need  not  imfold  anything  you  may  choose  to 
keep  to  yourself,  but  I  can  imderstand  that  a  very 
tender  feeling  may  have  sprung  up  between  Mr. 
Walden  and  yourself." 

"  He  never  has  said  that  he  loved  me.  You  would 
not  have  me  ask  him  if  he  does,  would  you,  father 
dear?"  she  said  playfuUy,  patting  his  lips  with  her 
fingers. 

"  I  understand,  daughter.  Things  of  the  heart  are 
sacred  and  not  to  be  talked  about,"  he  replied,  kiss- 
ing her  once  more  and  feeling  as  never  before  the 
greatness  and  richness  of  the  treasure  he  had  in  her. 

"  Ah !  I  see,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  paced  the 
room.  "  It  is  all  clear,  now,  why  Lord  Upperton  and 
khe  rest  of  them  have  had  no  chance." 


XXI. 

THE    ESCAPE. 

The  October  days  were  bright  and  clear,  but  the 
sun  shone  upon  a  home  invaded  by  sickness.  In  the 
Brandon  home,  Lieutenant  Walden  was  slowly  recov- 
ering. Mrs.  Brandon  was  an  invalid,  worn  down  with 
care  and  anxiety.  Life  upon  the  sea,  hardship,  and 
exposure  had  brought  rheumatism  to  the  joints  of 
Captain  Brandon,  who  was  only  able  to  hobble  with 
his  cane.  One  countenance  in  the  home  was  always 
bright  and  cheerfid  ;  there  was  ever  a  smile  upon 
'Rinthia's  face.  Abraham  Duncan  was  the  ever 
helpfid  friend,  not  only  ministering  to  their  wants  but 
giving  information  of  what  was  going  on,  —  that  Gen- 
eral Gage  had  been  called  to  England,  and  General 
Howe  was  to  succeed  him  as  commander. 

''  The  Britisli  soldiers,"  said  Abraham,  "  are  not 
Korry  to  have  Gage  go  ;  they  are  ready  to  throw  up 
tlieir  caps  for  General  Howe,  who  showed  his  bravery 
at  Bunker  Hill,  while  Gage  looked  on  with  his  spy- 
glass from  the  steeple  of  Christ  Church.  The  soldiers 
think  Gage  has  been  too  kind-hearted  in  permitting 
you  to  have  charge  of  Lieutenant  Walden.  Rebels 
are  not  entitled  to  mercy." 

There  came  a  night  in  October  when  the  people 
were   awakened    bv  the    thunder   of  cannon  and  the 


TUB  ESCAPE.  321 

l-attle  of  muskets.  In  the  morning  Abraham  said 
that  a  party  of  Americans  came  down  Charles  Kiver 
in  flatboats  and  on  rafts,  and  opened  fire  upon  the 
troops  encamped  on  the  Common.  Only  one  or  two 
were  injured,  but  it  gave  the  British  a  great  fright. 

The  sound  of  the  strife  stirred  Robert's  blood.  He 
wanted  to  be  there,  —  to  take  part  in  driving  the  red- 
coats into  the  sea.  The  thought  nerved  him;  but 
when  the  uproar  died  away,  he  found  himself  weak, 
with  his  tongue  parched  and  his  blood  at  fever  heat. 
Would  strength  ever  come  ?  Woidd  he  ever  be  able 
to  take  part  again  in  the  struggle  for  freedom  ? 

Day  after  day  there  came  one  to  see  him,  the  sound 
"of  whose  footsteps  was  more  inspiring  than  the  roll  of 
the  drums,  the  touch  of  whose  hand  gave  him  strength, 
whose  presence  was  a  benediction.  She  sat  by  his  side 
and  read  to  him  from  the  poets ;  told  him  pleasant 
stories  ;  laid  her  soft  hand  upon  his  brow.  When  he 
was  a  little  stronger,  she  and  'Rinthia  supported  his 
faltering  steps  up  the  stairway  to  the  roof  of  the  man- 
sion, where  he  could  sit  in  the  sunshine,  gaze  upon  the 
beautiful  panorama,  inhale  the  life-giving  air  from  the 
hills,  and  the  odors  wafted  from  the  sea.  Across  the 
Charles  was  the  line  of  yeUow  earth  behind  which  he 
went  down  in  the  melee.  Upon  the  higher  hill  were 
the  new  and  stronger  fortifications  constructed  by  the 
British.  The  fields,  where  so  many  of  the  redcoats 
were  cut  down  by  the  fire  of  the  New  Hampshire 
men,  were  dotted  with  white  tents.  At  the  base  of 
the  hill  were  the  blackened  ruins  of  Charlestown.  On 
Prospect  Hill  were  the  earthworks  of  the  provin- 
cials.    He  could  not    discover    any  fortifications    on 


322       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Dorchester  Heights,  and  wondered  why  either  Gen- 
eral Washington  or  the  British  commander  had  not 
taken  possession  of  such  a  commanding  position. 
The  Americans  ought  to  seize  it ;  for,  with  cannon 
planted  there,  they  could  drive  the  warships  from  the 
harbor.  He  doubted  if  General  Washington  knew 
the  value  of  the  position.  He  was  able  now  to  go  up 
and  down  the  stairs  without  assistance  ;  a  few  more 
days,  and  he  would  be  strong  and  vigorous.  Then 
what  ?  He  was  a  prisoner,  and  had  not  been  paroled. 
If  the  British  were  to  learn  he  was  getting  well,  would 
they  not  be  likely  to  send  hmi  on  board  one  of  the 
ships  and  pack  him  off  to  Halifax  ?  Even  if  they  did 
not  take  such  a  course,  how  could  he  remain  there- 
doing  nothing.  Oh,  if  he  could  only  be  with  the 
army  again  I  But  were  he  to  go,  he  must  say  good-by 
to  her  who  had  saved  his  life.  Why  not  remain  and 
enjoy  the  blessedness  of  her  presence  ?  But  would 
she  not  think  him  wanting  in  manliness  ?  On  the 
other  hand,  if  he  were  to  make  his  escape  and  go  back 
to  the  army,  would  he  not  in  a  sense  be  lifting  his 
hand  against  her  father  and  mother  in  his  efforts  to 
drive  the  British  from  Boston  ?  More  than  that,  was 
it  not  becoming  plain,  that  were  the  British  to  go,  the 
Tories  must  also  go?  for  the  bitterness  between  those 
who  stood  for  tlie  king  and  those  who  supported  Con- 
gress was  deepening.  Mr.  Newville  sided  with  the 
king ;  he  was  holding  an  office  imder  the  crown.  If 
the  British  were  driven  out,  he  woidd  be  compelled 
to  leave,  and  in  all  probability  his  estate  would  be 
confiscated.  If  he  himself  were  to  make  his  escape  to 
the  aiiny,  would  he   ever    again  behold  the  face  of 


THE  ESCAPE.  323 

Ruth  Newville,  ever  again  see  the  love  beaming  from 
her  eyes,  or  feel  the  touch  of  her  hand  ?  How  could 
he  go  and  leave  her  with  such  uncertainty  before  hun  ? 
And  yet,  would  it  not  be  ignoble  to  remain  ?  If  he 
could  get  away,  was  it  not  his  duty  to  do  so  ?  Was 
not  his  country  calling  him  ? 

Captain  Brandon  learned  that  General  Howe  had 
issued  a  proclamation  threatenmg  with  death  any  one 
who  might  attempt  to  escape  without  a  permit  from 
himself.  "  More  than  this,"  said  Mr.  Brandon,  "  he 
has  issued  another  proclamation  for  us  to  organize  our- 
selves into  companies  to  preserve  order.  He  will  fur- 
nish us  with  arms  and  supply  us  with  provisions  the 
same  as  the  troops  receive.  We  are  commanded  to  re- 
port to  Peter  Oliver  within  four  days.  Being  stiff  in 
the  joints,  I  shall  not  comply.  Besides,  I  don't  intend 
to  leave  such  fare  as  you  give  me,  Berinthia,  for  the 
salt  junk  and  tainted  pork  doled  out  to  the  soldiers." 

Once  more  there  was  a  familiar  step  in  the  hall, 
and  Ruth  entered  the  room.  The  rich  bloom  of  other 
days  was  once  more  on  her  cheeks,  the  old-time  smile 
illumining  her  countenance.  Pier  quick  perception 
detected  a  mind  disturbed.  They  sat  down  by  the 
fire.  She  laid  her  hand  in  his,  and  leaned  her  head 
upon  his  shoulder. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked,  smoothing  the  troubled 
brow. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  that  I  am  still  a  prisoner, 
liable  to  be  seized  at  any  moment  and  sent  far  away 
or  put  in  confinement.  What  ought  I  to  do  ?  Shall 
I  attempt  to  escape,  run  the  chance  of  being  shot,  or 
captured  and  executed,  as  threatened  by  the  procla- 


824       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

mation?  If  I  make  the  attempt  and  succeed,  possi^ 
bly  we  may  never  meet  again,"  he  said  with  faltering 
voice. 

"  Never  meet  again  !     Why  not  ?  " 


Planning  the  Escape. 

"  I  may  be  captured  and  hanged.  If  I  reach  the 
arniy,  I  shall  do  what  I  can  to  drive  the  British  from 
Boston.  If  we  do,  the  probabilities  are  that  your 
father,  holding  office  under  the  crown,  will  be  obliged 
to  leave  the  Colony  ;   and  his  daughter  " — 


THE  ESCAPE.  325 

He  could  say  no  more.  His  lips  were  quivering, 
and  tears  coursing  his  cheeks.  Her  hand  wiped  them 
away ;  and  her  arm  pillowed  his  bowed  head. 

"  You  are  aU  the  world  to  me.  It  is  for  you  to 
say.     Shall  I  go,  or  shall  I  stay  ?  "  he  said. 

The  words  were  faintly  spoken. 

"  Go,  and  God  be  with  you.  If  it  be  his  will,  we 
shall  meet  again." 

Oh  brave  heart !  The  world's  redemption  rests 
with  such  as  you  I 

The  busy  brain  of  Berinthia  planned  the  way. 
The  British  had  seized  all  the  boats  along  the 
wharves,  and  sentinels  were  guarding  them,  but  there 
was  an  Indian  canoe  in  the  loft  of  the  shipyard. 
Abraham  Duncan  would  put  it  in  trim  and  render 
all  possible  assistance. 

No  tears  dimmed  Ruth  Newville's  eyes  when  she 
bade  him  good-by  and  gave  him  a  parting  kiss.  Not 
till  she  was  in  the  seclusion  of  her  own  chamber  were 
the  fountains  imsealed.  Alone,  she  gave  way  to  grief, 
to  be  comforted  by  her  faith  in  One  Unseen. 

Many  soldiers  had  deserted,  so  every  night,  at  sun- 
down, sentinels  patroled  the  wharves,  and  boats  manned 
by  sailors  and  marines  kept  vigilant  watch  in  Charles 
River  and  far  down  the  harbor.  Robert  must  go  to 
the  shipyard  before  sundown  and  remain  secreted  till 
well  into  the  night.  The  new  moon  would  gt)  down  at 
nine  o'clock ;  the  tide  then  would  be  half  flood.  What 
route  should  he  take  ?  Were  he  to  go  directly  up  the 
Charles  River  to  join  the  army  at  Cambridge,  he  must 
run  the  gauntlet,  not  only  of  three  or  four  of  the  war- 
ships, but  of  the  marine  pati-ol  in  the  river  and  the 


326       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

sentinels  on  both  banks.  If  he  were  to  strike  eastward 
toward  the  Mystic,  he  would  encounter  the  guard  in 
that  direction  and  the  warship  Scarborough  anchored 
in  the  channel.  The  route  up  the  Charles  was  most 
direct  and  inviting,  though  beset  with  greatest  danger. 

During  the  day  Abraham  placed  the  canoe  beneath 
the  wharf  of  the  shipyard.  Bidding  his  friends 
good-by,  with  an  overcoat  to  protect  him  from  the  cold, 
Robert  made  his  way  to  the  shipyard,  secreting  him- 
self in  one  of  the  buildings  just  before  the  hour  for 
placing  the  sentinels.  The  young  tide  was  already 
setting  up  the  bay,  and  a  gentle  wind  blowing  from 
the  east,  alike  favorable  for  the  execution  of  his  plan ; 
but  with  the  sea-breeze  came  the  fog,  thick  and 
dense,  shrouding  ship  and  shore.  He  rejoiced  in  the 
thought  that  it  would  cover  all  his  movements  and 
hide  him  from  observation.  But  upon  reflection 
there  was  another  serious  and  disquieting  aspect ; 
how  should  he  make  his  way  and  by  what  objects 
could  he  mark  out  his  course?  Would  he  not  run 
upon  the  boats  of  the  marine  patrol  and  be  hailed  by 
the  sentinels  on  the  Boyne,  Somerset,  and  other  ves- 
sels of  the  fleet  ?  He  must  run  the  chances  and  do 
the  best  he  could. 

The  sentinels  had  been  set  along  the  wharves. 
The  soldier  guarding  the  shipyard  was  pacing  his 
beat  immediately  in  front  of  Robert's  hiding-place. 
A  thought  came  ;  why  not  seize  his  musket  and  have 
a  wea})ou  of  defense  ?  Noiselessly  Robert  opened  the 
door :  stealthy  his  step ;  one  wrench,  and  the  weapon 
was  his,  greatly  to  the  astonishment  of  the  surprised 
and    frightened    soldier,    who   saw   his    own    bayonet 


THE  ESCAPE.  327 

pointed  at  his  breast  and  heard  the  click  of  the  gun- 
lock. 

"  Don't  fire !     Don't  fire ! "  stammered  the  soldier. 

"  Take  off  that  belt  and  cartridge  box !  " 

The  soldier  obeyed  the  peremptory  order. 

"  About  face !  " 

Accustomed  to  obey  orders,  he  faced  as  directed. 

"  March ! " 

Again  he  obeyed,  taking  the  regulation  step  as  if  at 
drill,  Robert  following  a  short  distance,  then  halting 
while  the  soldier  continued  the  march.  With  the 
musket  and  cartridge  box  well  filled,  Robert  seated 
himseK  in  the  canoe.  He  knew  the  Boyne  with 
seventy  guns,  Preston  with  fifty,  Phoenix,  Lively, 
Scarborough,  Empress  of  Russia,  and  several  other 
smaller  vessels  of  the  fleet  were  anchored  at  different 
points.  He  had  noted  their  positions  during  the  day. 
but  in  the  darkness  and  fog  could  make  no  calcu- 
lations in  regard  to  them.  The  flowing  tide  would 
be  his  only  guide.  By  drifting  with  it,  he  would  be 
borne  to  the  Cambridge  shore  of  the  Charles,  to 
General  Washington's  army,  providing  he  could  dodge 
the  ships,  floating  batteries,  and  picket  boats.  Using 
the  paddle,  he  struck  out  from  the  wharf,  peering  into 
the  mist,  his  ears  open  to  catch  the  faintest  soimd. 

"  Boat  ahoy  I  " 

The  startling  shout  seemed  to  come  from  the  sky. 
Looking  up  he  saw  the  great  black  huU  of  the  Boyne, 
recognizing  the  vessel  by  her  triple  tier  of  guns. 
He  was  almost  beneath  the  bowsprit. 

'^  Round  to  xmder  the  stern  or  I  '11  fire,"  said  the 
voice. 


328       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !  "  Robert  replied. 

While  drifting  past  the  ship,  so  near  that  he  could 
touch  the  hull  with  his  hands,  he  was  deciding  what 
to  do.  Reaching  the  stern,  with  a  stroke  of  the  pad- 
dle the  canoe  whirled  under  it,  then  shot  up  the  other 
side  of  the  ship  into  the  teeth  of  the  tide,  back  once 
more  to  the  stern,  and  while  the  puzzled  sentinels  on 
the  deck  were  wondering  what  had  become  of  the 
canoe  he  was  disappearing  in  the  fog,  the  success 
of  his  strategy  giving  zest  to  his  enterprise.  He  had 
kept  his  bearings  as  best  he  could,  but  was  not  quite 
certain  of  his  position,  as  he  drifted  once  more. 

"  Boat  ahoy  I     Who  goes  there  ?  " 

The  challenge  came,  not  from  overhead,  but  from 
the  fog  before  him.  A  backward  stroke  arrested  his 
movement.     Again  the  hail  and  no  reply. 

"  Up  with  the  anchor !     Out  with  your  oars !  " 

Evidently  he  had  drifted  upon  one  of  the  boats 
anchored  in  the  ferry-way.  Paddling  away,  he  sud- 
denly heard  the  swash  of  waves,  and  found  himself 
approaching  a  wharf,  but  on  which  side  the  river  he 
could  not  say. 

"  Boat  ahoy !  Halt,  or  I  'U  fire,"  the  hail  that  came 
to  him. 

Peering  into  the  mist,  he  saw  the  dim  outline  of  a 
soldier  raising  his  musket. 

"  Hold  on.  Don't  fire.  Please  point  me  in  the 
direction  of  tlie  Boyne,"  said  Robert. 

The  sentinel  lowered  his  musket  as  if  saying  to 
himself,  "  This  must  be  one  of  the  officers  of  the  fri- 
gate who  has  been  on  shore  having  a  good  time." 

"  The  Boyne  is  vio'ht  out  in  that  direction,"  said 


THE  ESCAPE,  S29 

the  sentinel,  pointing  with  his  musket,  "but  my  orders 
ai'e  not  to  let  any  one  pass  along  the  wharf  after  ten 
o'clock  without  they  give  the  countersign." 

"  All  right ;  always  obey  orders.  I  '11  come  to  the 
wharf." 

Robert  could  hear  the  dip  of  oars  in  the  fog,  and 
knew  it  must  be  the  patrol  boat  pursuing  him.  He 
paddled  towards  the  wharf  as  if  to  give  the  counter- 
sign, but  the  next  moment  shot  under  it  as  the  other 
boat  approached. 

"  Boat  ahoy !  "  he  heard  the  sentinel  shout. 

"  Ahoy  yourself !  We  are  the  patrol.  Have  you 
seen  a  canoe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  the  man  inquired  where  the  Boyne  was 
lying,  and  disappeared  quicker  than  greased  lightning 
when  he  heard  you  coming." 

Robert  was  making  his  way,  the  while,  amid  the 
piles  of  the  wharf.  He  knew  the  tide  must  be  near 
its  full  flood,  for  he  had  to  crouch  low  in  the  canoe, 
and  the  barnacles  upon  the  piles  were  nearly  covered 
with  the  water.  He  doubted  if  the  patrol  could  fol- 
low him.  Should  he  remain  secreted?  No.  They 
might  light  a  torch  and  discover  him.  Noiselessly  he 
paddled  amid  the  piles  to  the  farther  side  of  the  wharf, 
and  then  glided  from  its  shelter  along  the  shore, 
screened  from  the  patrol  by  the  projecting  timbers, 
and  was  once  more  in  the  stream.  He  could  no  longer 
be  guided  by  the  tide  or  drift  with  it.  The  wind  had 
died  away.  It  was  blowing  from  the  east  when  he 
started,  but  now  only  by  waving  his  hand  could  he 
ascertain  its  direction.  Whether  it  had  changed  he 
could  not  know.     It  was  a  welcome  sound  that  came 


330       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

to  his  ears  —  the  clock  on  the  Old  Brick  Meetinghouse 
striking  the  hour.  He  thought  of  Ruth,  asleep  in  her 
white-curtained  chamber  so  near  the  bell,  and  of  her 
goodness,  her  brave  heart,  that  bade  him  go.  The 
tones  came  to  him  over  his  right  shoulder,  when  they 
ought  to  be  over  the  left.  He  must  be  headed  in  the 
wrong  direction.  It  was  not  easy  for  him  to  reason 
it  out ;  yet,  if  he  would  reach  Cambridge,  he  must 
turn  squarely  round.  It  was  plain  that  he  had  not 
made  much  progTcss.  He  knew  that  several  warships 
and  floating  batteries  and  picket-boats  must  be  lying 
between  his  position  and  the  Americans,  but  he  must 
go  on.  Suddenly  a  dark  object  loomed  before  him, 
and  a  hail  as  before  came  from  the  deck  of  a  ship. 

"  Come  alongside,  or  I  '11  fire." 

What  should  he  do  ?  He  saw  a  blinding  flash.  A 
bullet  whizzed  over  his  head,  and  the  report  of  the 
musket  awoke  the  echoes  along  the  shore.  It  was 
from  the  stern  of  the  ship.  Again,  a  flash  from  the 
bow,  and  a  bullet  pattered  into  the  water.  Suddenly 
the  light  of  a  torch  brought  into  fidl  view  a  marine 
holding  it  over  the  side  of  the  vessel.  Another  ma- 
rine by  his  side  was  reloading  his  musket.  A  thought 
came  —  they  had  opened  fire  upon  him ;  why  not  pay 
them  in  the  same  coin.  Dropping  the  paddle,  he 
raised  the  musket  he  had  wrenched  from  the  sentinel. 
The  torch  revealed  the  form  of  him  who  held  it, — 
a  man  with  weather-beaten  features,  hard  and  cold. 
He  was  so  near  that  it  would  be  easy  to  send  a  bullet 
through  Ills  heart.  Should  he  do  it?  .Why  not? 
Had  he  not  been  down  to  death's  door  through  brutal 
treatment  from  the  redcoats  ?    Why  not  take  revenge  ? 


THE  ESCAPE.  331 

No,  he  could  not  quench  life  forever,  bring  sorrow, 
perchance,  to  some  household  far  away ;  but  he  would 
put  out  that  torch.  He  ran  his  eye  along  the  gun- 
barrel,  pulled  the  trigger,  and  sent  the  bullet  through 
the  upraised  arm.  The  torch  fell  into  the  water,  and 
all  was  dark. 

"  We  are  attacked !  Beat  to  quarters,"  was  the 
shout  on  the  ship. 

He  heard  the  roll  of  di'ums.  Men  leaped  from  their 
hammocks.  There  was  hurrying  of  feet,  rattling  of 
ropes,  and  shouting  of  orders.  Again  a  musket  flashed 
and  a  bullet  pierced  the  canoe,  reminding  him  he  was 
near  enough  to  the  ship  to  be  seen.  A  few  strokes  of 
the  paddle  and  he  was  beyond  their  aim.  Suddenly 
he  discovered  the  canoe  was  filling  with  water  through 
the  hole  made  by  the  bullet.  Several  minutes  passed 
before  he  could  find  it,  in  the  darkness ;  the  canoe 
gradually  sinking  the  while.  When  found,  at  last, 
he  thrust  in  his  finger  and  reflected  what  next  to  do. 
It  was  plain  that  the  leak  must  be  stopped,  but  how  ? 
He  could  not  sit  with  his  finger  in  the  hole  and  drift 
wherever  the  tide  might  take  him.  Removing  his 
finger,  he  would  soon  be  sinking. 

"  Ah !  I  have  it,"  he  said  to  himself.  It  was  but 
the  work  of  a  moment  to  cut  a  bit  of  rope  from  the 
coil  at  his  feet  and  thrust  it  into  the  opening,  stopping 
the  leak. 

But  the  canoe  was  water-logged ;  how  should  he  get 
rid  of  it?  To  scoop  out  with  the  paddle  would  at- 
tract attention  and  bring  the  whole  patrol  to  the  spot ; 
there  was  a  better  way. 

"  I  '11  use  my  hat  for  a  bucket,"  he  said  to  himself. 


332        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

He  balled  the  canoe  and  reloaded  the  musket,  drift- 
ing the  while.  Where  he  was  he  could  not  determine. 
Suddenly  a  musket  flashed,  high  up  in  the  air,  and  a 
bullet  fell  into  the  water  by  his  side.  He  could  see 
the  faint  outline  of  topmasts  and  yardarms,  and  the 
figure  of  a  man  upon  the  shrouds.  He  aimed  as  best 
he  could  and  pulled  the  trigger. 

"  I  'm  shot ! "  were  the  words  that  came  to  him 
through  the  mist. 

"  Give  'em  the  six-pounder  with  grape,"  said  a  voice, 
followed  by  a  blinding  flash,  a  swish  in  the  water,  the 
roar  of  a  cannon.  It  had  been  fired  at  random,  and 
he  was  unharmed.  Once  more  he  used  the  paddle, 
wondering  what  next  would  happen. 

What  the  meaning  of  that  flash  in  the  distance  ? 
What  that  plunge  in  the  water  not  far  away  ?  What 
that  deep,  heavy  roar  reverberating  along  the  shore  ? 
Surely  it  must  be  a  shot  from  General  Washington's 
cannon.  And  now  all  around  he  heard  voices,  and 
boatswains'  whistles.  Soon  the  great  guns  of  the 
warships  were  flashing;  shot  were  plunging  into  the 
water,  and  shells  bursting  in  the  air. 

"  I  have  kicked  up  a  big  racket,"  said  Robert  to 
himself  as  he  listened  to  the  uproar. 

What  should  he  do  ?  The  tide  was  beginning  to 
ebb.  Why  not  go  with  it  down  the  harbor,  reach  one 
of  the  islands,  wait  till  daylight,  and  then  shape  his 
course,  instead  of  attempting  to  pass  the  pickets  pa- 
trolling the  river  with  everybody  on  the  alert.  While 
tlie  cannon  were  flashing  he  drifted  with  the  ebbing 
tide.  Another  dark  object  suddenly  loomed  before 
him,  but  no  hail  cuuie  from  its  deck.     Plauily  it  was 


THE  ESCAPE.  333 

one  of  the  transports.  Another,  and  still  no  hail. 
The  cannonade  was  dying  away;  suddenly,  beUs  all 
around  him  were  striking.  He  must  be  in  the  midst 
of  the  fleet  of  transports;  it  was  four  o'clock,  the 
hour  to  change  the  watch.  He  heard  once  more  the 
beU  of  the  Old  Brick,  —  he  could  teU  it  by  its  pitch. 
Wind,  tide,  and  the  meetinghouse  beU  enabled  him  to 
calculate  his  position :  he  could  not  be  far  from  the 
Castle ;  he  resolved  to  make  for  Dorchester  Heights. 

Day  was  breaking  and  the  fog  lifting.  In  the  dawn- 
ing light  he  shaped  his  course.  No  patrol  challenged 
him.  Through  the  rising  mist  he  discerned  the  out- 
line of  the  shore  and  heard  the  gentle  ripple  of  waves 
upon  the  beach.  To  leave  the  canoe  was  like  bidding 
good-by  to  a  faithfid  friend,  but  with  cartridge-box 
and  musket  he  stepped  ashore  and  soon  found  himself 
upon  the  spot  which  he  had  scanned  with  the  telescope 
from  the  Brandon  home. 

It  was  plain  that  he  had  not  miscalculated  its  value 
as  a  military  position,  —  that  cannon  planted  there 
coidd  plunge  their  balls  upon  the  great  fleet  of  trans- 
ports, or  upon  a  vessel  attempting  to  enter  or  dej^art 
from  the  harbor.  He  descended  the  western  slope  of 
the  hill,  reached  a  narrow  path  leading  a<?ross  the 
marsh  land,  and  made  his  way  to  Roxbury,  to  be 
warmly  welcomed  by  General  Nathanael  Greene. 

"  You  must  tell  General  Washington  about  Dor- 
chester Heights.  I  am  going  to  dine  with  him  to-day, 
and  you  must  go  with  me,"  said  General  Greene,  who 
informed  Robert  that  Lieutenant  Robert  Walden  was 
supposed  to  have  been  killed  about  the  same  time  that 
Doctor  Warren  fell. 


334       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

*'  But  I  am  here  and  ready  to  give  an  account  of 
myself,"  Robert  replied. 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  be  in  the  saddle  once  more,  — 
to  ride  with  General  Greene  along  the  works  wliich 
his  troops  had  constructedo  They  dismounted  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Vassall  in  Cambridge,  where  General 
Washington  had  established  his  headquarters.     The 


Washington's   Headquarters. 


commander-in-chief  was  pleased  to  welcome  him  and 
listen  to  his  story. 

"  I  think,  General  Washington,  that  if  cannon 
could  be  planted  there  the  British  fleet  could  be 
driven  from  the  harl)or.  It  is  a  high  hill  and  very 
commanding.     Troops  ascending  it  would  do  so  in  the 


THE  ESCAPE.  335 

face  of  a  plunging  fire  from  those  on  the  suumiit.  It 
occurred  to  me  while  standing  there,  that,  if  hogsheads 
were  to  be  fiUed  with  stones  and  sent  rolling  upon 
an  assaulting  force,  it  would  be  an  effective  means  of 
defense^" 

"  You  must  dine  with  me  to-day,  Lieutenant  Walden, 
I  want  Colonel  Knox,  who  commands  the  artillery,  and 
who  is  to  be  here  with  his  estimable  wife,  to  hear  what 
you  have  to  say." 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  meet  Colonel  Henry  Knox 
and  Mrs.  Knox. 

"  We  all  thought  you  went  down  in  the  melee  at 
Bunker  Hill,  and  yet  here  you  are,"  said  Colonel 
Knox, 

"  Yes,  and  ready  to  do  what  I  can  to  drive  the  red- 
coats into  the  sea." 

Mrs.  Knox  was  delighted  to  hear  from  her  old-time 
associate,  Berinthia  Brandon.  She  said  that  Tom 
was  giving  a  good  account  of  himself.  There  were 
tears  in  the  eyes  of  all  when  he  told  them  how  Miss 
Ruth  Newville  had  used  her  influence,  she  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  Tory,  to  save  him. 

"  That  is  the  noblest  type  of  womanhood,"  said 
General  Washington.  "  Perhaps,"  he  added,  "  you 
may  wish  to  visit  your  parents  for  a  few  days,  but  a 
little  later  I  shall  desire  you  to  assist  Colonel  Knox  in 
executing  an  important  trust." 

"  I  am  ready  to  do  what  I  can  in  any  capacity  for 
which  I  am  fitted,"  Robert  replied. 

A  flag  of  truce  went  out  from  the  headquarters  •. 
among  the  letters  to  people  in  Boston  was  one  directed 


336        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

to  Miss  Ruth  Newville.  The  red-coated  officer  who 
inspected  the  letters  read  but  ox\^  word. 

-  Safe." 

To  her  who  received  it  the  one  syllable  was  more 
than  a  page  of  foolscap. 


XXII. 

BRAVE   OF   HEART. 

The  king's  plan  to  punish  Boston  because  the  East 
India  Company's  tea  had  been  destroyed  was  not 
working  very  satisfactorily.  Ten  thousand  troops 
were  cooped  up  in  the  town  with  little  to  eat.  They 
could  obtain  no  fresh  provisions.  Lord  North  was  send- 
ing many  ships,  and  the  ship-owners  were  asking  high 
prices  for  the  use  of  their  vessels;  for  the  Yankee 
skippers  of  Marblehead,  Captain  Manly  and  Captain 
Mugford,  were  darting  out  from  that  port  in  swift- 
sailing  schooners,  with  long  eighteen-pounders  amid- 
ships, and  the  decks  swarming  with  men  who  had 
braved  the  storms  of  the  Atlantic  and  knew  no  fear, 
capturing  the  ships  dispatched  from  England  with 
food  and  supplies  for  the  army.  The  ministers  had 
paid  twenty-two  thousand  poimds  for  cabbages,  pota- 
toes, and  turnips ;  as  much  more  for  hay,  oats,  and 
beans  ;  half  a  million  pounds  for  flour,  beef,  and  pork. 
They  purchased  five  thousand  oxen,  fourteen  thou- 
sand sheep,  and  thousands  of  pigs,  that  the  army 
three  thousand  miles  away  might  have  something  to 
eat.  There  were  plenty  of  cattle,  sheej),  and  pigs 
within  fifty  miles  of  Boston,  but  General  Howe  could 
not  lay  his  hand  on  one  of  them.  The  winter  storms 
were  on.  and  the  ships  sailing  down  the  Thames  or 


338       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

from  Bristol  Channel  had  a  hard  time  of  it  before 
losing  sight  of  the  hills  of  Devon.  The  people  along 
the  Cornwall  shores  beheld  the  seashore  strewn  with 
carcasses  of  cattle,  sheep,  and  pigs,  tossed  overboard 
from  the  decks  of  foundering  vessels.  The  few 
cattle  that  survived  the  six  weeks'  tossing  on  the  sea 
were  but  skin  and  bones  when  the  ships  dropped 
anchor  by  Castle  William. 

In  contrast,  Tom  Brandon  and  the  soldiers  under 
General  Washington  had  plenty  of  good  food.  It 
was  a  tantalizing  handbill  which  Benjamin  Edes 
printed  on  his  press  at  Watertown. 

Tom  Brandon,  on  picket  at  Charlestown  Neck, 
hailed  the  Britisher  a  few  rods  distant. 

"  How  are  you,  redcoat  ?  " 

"  How  are  you,  rebel  ?  " 

"  Say,  redcoat,  if  you  won't  pop  at  me,  I  won't  at 
you." 

"  Agreed." 

''  Would  n't  ye  like  a  chaw  of  tobacco,  redcoat?  " 

"  I  would  n't  mind." 

"  All  right.  Here 's  a  plug  with  my  compliments ; 
't ain't  poisoned.  Ye  needn't  be  afraid  of  it,"  said 
Tom,  tossing  it  to  him. 

The  Britisher  opened  the  paper  and  read :  — 

American  Army.  English  Army. 

1.  Seven  dollars  a  month.  1.  Three  pence  a  day. 

2.  Fresh  provisions  in  plenty.  2.  Rotten  salt  pork. 

3.  Health.  3.  The  scurvy. 

4.  Freedom,    ease,   affluence,  4.  Slavery,  beggary,  and  want. 

and  a  good  farm. 

Other  pickets  besides  Tom  were  tossing  the  hand- 


BRA  VE  OF  HEART.  339 

bills  to  tlie  Britishers.  Abraham  Duncan,  going 
here  and  there  along  the  streets,  saw  the  redcoats 
reading  them,  and  night  after  night  soldiers  disap- 
peared, never  again  to  shoulder  a  musket  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  king. 

Shut  up  in  the  town  with  nothing  to  do,  the  troops 
became  lawless,  breaking  into  houses  and  plundering 
the  peojjle.  In  vain  were  the  efforts  of  General  Howe, 
by  severe  punishments,  to  prevent  it ;  giving  one  sol- 
dier four  hundred  lashes  on  his  bare  back ;  another 
six  hundred ;  hanging  a  third. 

Hard  times  had  come  to  the  people  of  Boston.  In 
the  autumn.  General  Howe  had  issued  a  proclama- 
tion, threatening  with  execution  any  one  who  should 
attempt  to  steal  away  from  the  town  without  his  con- 
sent; but  now  he  would  gladly  have  them  go,  only 
they  must  obtain  permission.  He  could  not  supply 
them  with  food,  neither  with  fuel.  He  gave  the 
soldiers  leave  to  rip  the  boards  from  the  Old  North 
Meetinghouse,  and  cut  its  timbers  into  kindlings. 
After  much  hacking  they  leveled  the  Liberty  Tree, 
not  only  to  obtain  the  wood,  but  to  manifest  their 
hatred  of  the  tree.  Not  being  able  to  feed  the  people, 
he  sent  three  hundred  and  fifty  from  the  town,  land- 
ing them  at  Point  Shirley,  to  make  their  way  over 
the  marshes  to  Lynn  as  best  they  could.  Others  were 
directed  to  go. 

"  We  shall  not  go.  I  do  not  propose  to  let  the 
redcoats  make  themselves  at  home  in  this  house," 
said  Berinthia  to  the  sergeant  who  asked  if  the  fam- 
ily would  like  to  leave  the  town. 

*'  What  will  you  live  on  ?     Butcher  Thurbal,  whom 


340       DAUGHTERS   OP  THE  REVOLUTION. 

General  Howe  has  appointed  to  take  charge  of  all 
the  cattle,  says  he  has  but  six  left,  and  here  it  is  De- 
cember, with  winter  only  just  begun.  You  will  starve 
before  spring,"  the  sergeant  replied. 

"  We  have  a  little  flour,  and  there  is  a  kit  of 
mackerel ;  a  layer  of  pork  is  still  left  in  the  barrel. 
We  wiU  not  go  till  the  last  mouthful  of  food  is  gone," 
Berinthia  said  resolutely. 

The  knocker  rattled. 

"  One  of  Massa  Genral  Howe's  ossifers,"  said  Mark 
Antony. 

A  young  lieutenant  entered ;  but  seeing  a  fair-faced 
young  lady  he  removed  his  cap. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  the  mistress  of  the  house,"  he 
said. 

"  I  am  mistress.     What  is  it  you  wish  ?  " 

"  I  come  to  inform  you  that  Colonel  Hardman  de- 
sires to  occupy  these  premises  for  himself  and  staff, 
of  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be  a  member.  I  am 
directed  to  inform  you  that  you  can  have  twenty-four 
hours  to  effect  your  removal."  ^ 

"  Colonel  Hardman  desires  to  take  our  house,  does 
he?" 

"  That  is  his  wish." 

"  Has  he  ordered  you  to  take  possession  of  it  for 
him  ?  " 

"  No,  he  has  directed  me  to  inform  you  of  what  he 
intends  to  do,  that  you  may  make  preparations  at  once 
for  your  removal." 

^  Under  date  of  September  l'?>,  1775,  is  the  following  from  the 
letter  of  Reverend  ^Vndrew  Eliot  to  S.  Eliot :  ''  Every  house  is  now 
taken  as  the  officers  please.  General  Clinton  is  in  Mr.  Hancock's,  Bur- 
<;i)yne  in  Mr.  Bowdoin's." 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  341 

"  You  will  please  say  to  Colonel  Hai-dmau  that  we 
cannot  accede  to  his  wish." 

It  was  said  with  such  firmness  and  quiet  dignity 
that  the  lieutenant  was  amazed.  He  waited  to  hear 
some  reason  why  she  woidd  not  comply  with  the  de- 
mand. She  stood  silent  before  him,  composedly  look- 
mg  him  in  the  face.  Not  being  able  to  find  words  to 
reply,  the  lieutenant  bowed  stiffly  and  departed. 

"You  haven't  got  tlu-ough  with  Colonel  Hard- 
man,"  said  Abraham.  "  He  likes  the  looks  of  this 
house,  evidently.     He  is  a  new  officer  just  arrived." 

"  He  will  find  that  an  American  girl  can  make  some 
resistance  to  force,"  Berinthia  replied. 

Once  more  the  knocker  rattled,  and  the  lieutenant 
entered. 

"  I  believe  I  have  the  honor  to  address  Miss  Bi-an- 
don,"  he  said,  bowing. 

"  That  is  my  name." 

"  I  am  extremely  sorry,  Miss  Brandon,  to  be  obliged 
to  execute  an  order  of  this  land,  but  I  am  du-ected  by 
Colonel  Hai'dman  to  take  possession  of  these  premises, 
as  you  will  see  by  this  order,"  he  said,  handing  her  a 
paper. 

"  By  what  right  does  Colonel  Hardman  seize  these 
premises  ?  " 

"  Well,  really  —  I  suppose  —  because  you  are  a  — 
a  rebel,  you  know,"  the  lieutenant  replied. 

"  How  does  he  know  that  I  am  a  rebel  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mean  exactly  that.  Of  course,  you  are 
not  in  arms  personally  against  his  majesty.  King 
George,  but  then,  the  people  are,  you  know." 

"  You  mean,  that  because  the  king's  ti'oops  began 


342       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

a  war,  firing  upon  the  people  at  Lexington  and  Con- 
cord, your  colonel  proposes  to  turn  me,  my  invalid 
father  and  mother,  out  of  our  home,  that  he  may  take 
possession  and  live  in  comfort." 

"  It  is  awfully  bad  business.  Miss  Brandon,  but  I 
can't  help  it,  you  know." 

"  I  do  not  doubt,  sir,  that  it  is  mortifying  to  you, 
personally,  to  be  compelled  to  execute  an  order  of 
this  sort.  Please  say  to  Colonel  Hardman  that  this 
is  our  home,  and  we  shall  not  leave  it  voluntarily.  If 
he  desires  to  occupy  it,  he  will  do  so  only  by  force  of 
arms." 

The  lieutenant  took  his  hat,  not  knowing  what  to 
make  of  a  young  lady  so  calm  and  seK-possessed,  who 
did  not  cry  or  wring  her  hands. 

'^  Oh,  Ruth,  you  are  just  the  one  I  want  to  see," 
said  Berinthia,  as  Miss  Newville  entered  a  few  nuii- 
utes  later.  "  Just  look  at  this  I  Colonel  Hardman 
proposes  to  turn  us  out  of  doors,  that  he  may  take 
possession  of  our  home." 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  protest  ?  " 

"  I  have  protested." 

''  Are  n't  you  going  to  do  sometliing  ?  " 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  We  will  see.  General  Howe  is  to  dine  with  us 
this  afternoon,  and  I  have  come  to  get  you  to  help  me 
entertain  him  and  the  others.  We  wiU  ask  him  what 
he  thinks  of  such  arbitrary  action  on  the  part  of  his 
subordinate  officer." 

"  I  will  be  there  to  hear  what  he  has  to  say,"  Be- 
vintliia  said. 

The  liard  times  and  the  want  of  fresh  provisions 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  343 

ruffled  the  temper  of  Phillis  in  the  Newville  kitchen. 
No  longer  could  she  baste  a  fat  turkey  roasting  by  the 
fire,  or  a  joint  of  juicy  beef,  and  yet  the  dinner  she 
was  preparing  for  his  excellency  General  Howe,  and 
Mr.  Newville's  other  guests,  was  very  appetizing,  — 
oysters  raw  and  fried,  clam  soup,  broiled  halibut,  fresh 
mackerel,  corned  beef  and  pork,  plum-pudding  and 
pie. 

Lord  William  Howe,  commander-in-chief  of  his 
majesty's  forces  in  America,  was  a  gentleman,  polite, 
affable,  who  dehghted  to  make  himself  agreeable  to 
beautiful  ladies.  At  Bunker  Hill  he  had  shown  the 
army  that  he  could  be  brave  on  the  battlefield.  The 
other  guests  were  Brigadier-General  Timothy  Ruggles, 
appointed  conmiander  of  the  militia,  loyal  to  the  king, 
and  Captain  John  Coffin  of  his  staff.  General  Howe 
solicited  the  honor  of  escorting  Miss  Newville  to  the 
dinner-table ;  Captain  Coffin,  possibly  preferring  the 
society  of  the  girl  with  whom  he  often  had  romped  to 
that  of  the  mother,  offered  his  arm  to  Berinthia,  leav- 
ing to  General  Ruggles  the  honor  of  escorting  the 
hostess. 

"  The  state  of  the  times,"  said  Mr.  Newville,  "  does 
not  enable  me  to  provide  an  elaborate  repast,  but 
Phillis  has  done  her  best  with  what  she  had." 

"  I  am  sure  your  dinner  will  be  far  more  elaborate 
than  anything  I  have  upon  my  own  table,"  said  Gen- 
eral Howe.  "  There  being  no  fresh  provisions  in  the 
market,  I  have  to  put  up  with  salt  junk." 

"  Do  you  think  the  present  scai'city  of  food  will 
continue  long?"  Ruth  inquired. 

"  I  trust  not.     It  win  be  some  time  before  the  gov- 


344       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

ernnient  supplies  reach  me  from  England,  but  I  have 
dispatched  vessels  to  Halifax  and  the  West  Indies, 
which,  with  fair  winds,  ought  to  be  here  in  the  course 
of  a  week." 

"  It  is  tantalizing  to  know  there  are  abundant  sup- 
plies of  vegetables  in  the  farmers'  cellars,  not  twenty 
mUes  away,  that  droves  of  cattle  and  sheep  come  to 
Mr.  Washington,  and  we  cannot  get  a  joint  of  mutton 
or  a  cabbage,"  said  Mr.  Newville. 

"  If  the  provincial  pirates  do  not  intercept  the  ves- 
sels, we  shall  have  fresh  provisions  soon ;  but  they  are 
a  daring  set  of  rebels  who  live  down  towards  Cape 
Ann.  A  schooner  darted  out  the  other  day  from 
Marblehead,  and  captured  the  brig  Nancy  and  a  rich 
cargo  which  I  could  ill  afford  to  lose,  —  two  thousand 
muskets,  one  hundred  thousand  flints,  thirty  thousand 
cannon-balls,  and  thirty  tons  of  musket-balls,  and  a 
thirteen-inch  mortar.  I  understand  Mr.  Washington 
is  gi'eatly  elated  by  the  capture,  as  well  he  ma}^  be." 

"Cannot  Admiral  Graves  protect  the  transports?" 
Mr.  NewviUe  asked. 

"  Perhaps  a  little  more  enterprise  on  the  part  of 
the  marine  force  would  be  commendable.  The  pro- 
%ancials,  I  must  admit,  show  far  greater  zeal  than  is 
seen  in  the  king's  navy." 

''  It  is  commonly  remarked  that  the  navy  is  not 
doing  much,"  said  General  Ruggles. 

"  The  army,  although  it  is  not  marching  into  the 
<'0untry,  is  far  move  active,  judging  from  the  firing 
which  I  hear  thiough  the  day,"  Berinthia  remarked. 

General  Howe  scanned  her  face,  wondering  if  there 
was  not  a  trifle  of  sarcasm  in  the  words.     He  knew 


BRA  VE  OF  HEART.  ^  345 

he  was  being  criticised  by  the  Tories  for  his  inactivity ; 
that  Admiral  Graves  and  the  officers  of  the  navy  were 
asking  when  the  army  was  going  to  scatter  Mr.  Wash- 
ington's rabble. 

"  I  was  relying  upon  the  muskets  captured  in  the. 
Nancy,"  said  General  Howe,  "  to  supply  the  gentle- 
men in  General  Robertson's  command;  also  the  loyal 
Irish  Volunteers  imder  Captain  Forest,  and  the  Fenci- 
bles  under  Colonel  Graham,  and  those  whom  Colonel 
Creen  Brush,  a  loyalist  from  New  York,  expects  to 
raise.  I  am  greatly  gratified  by  this  exhibition  of 
loyalty  on  the  part  of  the  citizens.  Doubtless  other 
vessels  will  soon  be  here  with  arms,  provided  that  au- 
dacious Captain  Manly  does  not  slip  out  from  Marble- 
head  and  nab  them  while  the  warships  are  getting  up 
their  anchors.  I  have  sent  several  ships  along  the 
shore  to  obtain  supplies  if  possible,  but  it  seems  the 
madness  of  the  people  in  revolting  against  our  gracious 
sovereign  is  widespread.  I  learn  there  are  many  who 
are  still  loyal,  but  who  do  not  dare  to  sell  provisions 
through  fear  of  their  neighbors." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  General  Ruggles  remarked. 
"  If  it  were  not  for  the  presence  of  the  troops,  we  who 
are  loyal  would  have  a  rough  time.  Even  as  it  is,  I 
see  scowls  upon  the  faces  of  my  old-time  friends  when- 
ever I  go  along  the  street." 

"  Since  I  accompanied  your  excellency  to  Bunker 
HiU  and  manifested  my  loyalty,"  said  Captain  Coffin, 
"  and  especially  since  I  have  taken  part  in  organizing 
the  loyal  citizens  to  aid  in  upholding  the  goveinment, 
I  find  some  of  my  former  friends,  notably  some  of  the 
young  ladies,  shutting  their  doors  in  my  face." 


346       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  suppose  you  can  hardly  wonder  at  it  ?  "  Ruth 
remarked. 

"Why  should  they?  I  have  not  changed.  Every- 
body knows  how  I  have  stood  from  the  beginning," 
the  captain  replied. 

"It  is  not  that  Captain  Coffin  is  not  as  agreeable 
and  entertaining  as  ever,  but  they  regard  the  king  as 
attempting  to  deprive  the  people  of  their  rights  and 
liberties ;  the  appeal  to  arms  has  been  made ;  if  you 
actively  support  his  majesty,  do  you  not  cut  yourself 
off  from  their  society  ?  Can  you  expect  them  to  be 
as  gi'acious  as  in  former  days?"  said  Berinthia. 

"  Perhaps  not,  from  the  standpoint  you  have  taken  ; 
but  it  is  rather  uncomfortable ,  to  have  a  young  lady 
who  has  welcomed  you  to  her  fireside  pass  you  by  on 
the  street  as  if  you  were  a  cold-blooded  villain." 

"  It  comes  to  this,"  said  Ruth.  "  One  cannot  be 
loyal  to  the  king,  neither  to  liberty,  without  suffering 
for  it.  Miss  Brandon's  brother  Tom  had  to  give  up 
his  lady-love  because  he  sided  with  the  provincials. 
Young  ladies  shut  the  door  in  Captain  Coffin's  face 
because  he  adheres  to  King  George.  If  his  majesty 
only  knew  the  disturbance  he  is  maldng  over  here  in 
love  affairs,  perhaps  he  would  withdraw  the  army." 

"  Of  course  he  would,"  exclaimed  General  Howe. 
"  I  don't  believe  that  side  of  the  question  has  ever 
been  laid  before  him.  I  am  sure,  Miss  Newville,  if 
you  were  to  go  as  special  envoy  and  present  the  case, 
showing  him  how  the  sword  is  cutting  young  heart- 
strings asunder,  he  would  at  once  issue  an  order  for 
us  to  pack  up  ami  be  off,  that  the  course  of  true  love 
might  run  smoothly  once  more." 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  347 

The  company  laughed  heartily. 

"  Perhaps,"  continued  General  Howe,  "  we  may 
have  to  pack  up  any  way,  for  want  of  something  to 
eat.  Before  I  succeeded  to  the  command.  General 
Gage  seriously  thought  of  evacuating  the  town,  but 
had  not  enough  vessels  to  transport  the  troops.  I 
could  not,  when  I  was  invested  with  the  command, 
send  a  portion  away;  to  do  so  would  invite  an  attack 
upon  those  remaining." 

Bermthia  saw  a  startled  look  upon  Mr.  Newville's 
face. 

"  Do  you  think,  your  excellency,  the  time  will  ever 
come  when  liis  majesty's  troops  will  take  their  depar- 
ture?" 

"  I  trust  not ;  but  this  rebellion,  which  we  thought 
would  be  confined  to  this  Province,  has  become  a 
continental  question.  Neither  the  king  nor  his  min- 
isters anticipated  it,  but  it  is  upon  us,  and  we  shall 
be  obliged  to  treat  it  in  all  its  vastness.  Large  rein- 
forcements are  to  be  sent.  An  agreement  is  being 
made  to  employ  several  thousand  Hessian  troops,  and 
everything  will  be  done  to  put  down  the  rebellion." 

"  I  expect  to  see,"  said  General  Ruggles,  "  the 
army  of  Mr.  Washington  crumble  to  pieces  very 
soon.  I  hear  that  the  Connecticut  troops  demanded 
a  bounty  as  the  condition  of  their  staying  any  longer, 
and  when  it  was  refused,  broke  ranks  and  started  for 
their  homes." 

"  So  I  am  informed,"  General  Howe  remarked, 
"  though,  to  tell  the  truth,  two  thousand  fresh  men 
came  from  the  New  Hampshire  province  to  take  their 
places.     I    must    say  the  provincials,  thus  far,  have 


348       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

shown  commendable  zeal  and  persistence  in  maintain- 
ing the  rebellion.  They  have  constructed  formidable 
earthworks  on  Cobble  Hill,  so  near  my  lines  that  they 
have  compelled  the  warships  to  drop  down  the  river 
to  a  safer  anchorage." 

"  If  by  any  chance  the  town  shoidd  be  evacuated, 
what  think  you,  your  excellency,  those  of  us  who  are 
loyal  to  the  king  ought  to  do  ?  "  Mr.  Newville  asked. 

"  That  is  really  a  very  difficult  question  to  answer. 
Your  loyalty  and  that  of  all  ladies  and  gentlemen 
who  stand  by  the  king  undoubtedly  will  make  you 
obnoxious  to  the  rebels.  The  bitterness  is  increasing. 
1  fear  you  will  not  be  shown  much  leniency." 

"  Would  you  think  it  strange,  your  excellency,  if 
they  were  not  lenient  ?  "  Ruth  inquired. 

"  Why  should  they  not  be.  Miss  Newville  ?  " 

"  Would  they  not  be  likely  to  regard  those  who 
support  the  king  as  their  enemies  ?  " 

"  Why  should  they  ?  You  have  not  taken  up  arms. 
Of  course,  General  Ruggles  and  Captain  Coffin  might 
be  regarded  as  obnoxious,  and  would  have  to  take  care 
of  themselves." 

"  But  will  they  not  say  we  have  given  moral  sup- 
port to  their  enemies,  and  is  not  moral  support  likely 
to  be  as  heinous  in  their  sight  as  the  taking  of  arms  ? 
If  we  ask  them  to  be  lenient,  will  they  not  inquire  if 
the  king's  troops  were  merciful  when  they  set  Charles- 
town  on  fii'e  ?  "  Ruth  asked. 

A  flush  came  upon  the  face  of  General  Howe.  Al- 
though he  commanded  the  troops  at  Bunker  Hill,  he 
had  not  ordered  the  burning  of  the  town.  General 
Gage  was  responsible  for  that  act.     He  felt  a  little 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  349 

uncomfortable  over  the  question,  for  the  latest  news- 
papers from  London  told  him  the  people  of  England 
condemned  the  destruction  of  the  homes  of  so  many 
inhabitants. 

"  I  am  free  to  say  it  was  rather  hard  on  them  thus 
to  have  their  homes  destroyed  without  a  moment's 
notice,"  he  replied. 

"Will  not,"  Ruth  inquired,  "the  provincials  think 
his  majesty's  forces  were  wanting  in  leniency  when 
they  recall-  what  was  done  at  Falmouth  a  few  days 
ago,  where  the  inhabitants  were  given  only  two  hours 
to  remove  from  the  town  ?  Not  one  minute  over  that 
would  Captain  Mowatt  grant  them,  though  women 
went  down  on  their  knees  before  him.  Was  it  not 
inhuman  for  him  to  fire  bombs  among  the  panic- 
stricken  multitude,  setting  the  buildings  on  fire, 
destroying  the  homes  of  five  hundred  people?  If 
his  majesty's  officers  do  these  things,  what  may  we 
not  expect  from  the  provincials,  should  it  ever  come 
our  turn  ?  " 

"We  wiU  do  what  we  can,  Miss  NewviUe,  not  to 
have  it  your  turn." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  my  lord ;  but  I  was  thinking  of 
possible  contingencies." 

Again  Berinthia  noticed  a  flush  upon  the  face  of 
General  Howe. 

"  I  will  admit,  Miss  NewviUe,  that  in  war  the  un- 
expected may  sometimes  happen,  and  possibilities  are 
not  comforting  subjects  for  contemplation.  I  do  not 
anticipate  disaster  to  the  troops  imder  my  command." 

"  Shall  we  drink  the  health  of  our  gTacious  sover- 
eign? "  said  Mr.  NewviUe. 


350       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

The  others  drained  their  glasses,  but  Miss  New- 
ville's  and  Berinthia's  were  not  lifted  from  the  table. 

"  What,  daughter  !  What  is  the  meaning  of  this? 
Not  drink  the  health  of  the  king ! "  Mr.  Newville 
exclaimed. 

"  No,  father.  I  could  drink  to  his  own  personal 
welfare,  wish  him  health,  happiness,  and  long  life,  but 
oui*  drinking  to  the  sentiment  means  approval  of  his 
government.  I  cannot  do  that.  I  never  can  think  it 
right  to  burn  the  homes  of  innocent  people  without 
a  moment's  warning,  as  was  done  at  Charlestown. 
The  people  of  Falmouth  never  had  done  anything 
against  the  king  except  to  prevent  Captain  Mowatt 
from  loading  masts  and  spars  on  board  his  ship  for 
the  use  of  the  king's  navy.  That  was  their  offense, 
and  yet  the  town  was  wantonly  destroyed.  I  cannot 
think  such  a  course  is  likely  to  restore  the  alienated 
affections  of  the  people  to  the  king.  More,  I  fear  the 
contingencies  of  war  may  yet  compel  us  to  suffer  be- 
cause of  these  unwarranted  acts." 

Mr.  Newville  sat  in  silence,  not  laiowing  what  to 
say.  He  had  been  outspoken  in  his  loyalty.  He 
never  had  contemplated  the  possibility  of  failure  on 
the  part  of  the  king  to  put  down  the  rebellion,  but  if 
General  Howe  were  to  evacuate  Boston,  what  treat- 
ment could  he  expect  from  the  provincials  ?  The 
words  of  Ruth  brought  the  question  before  him  in  a 
startling  way. 

"  Those  are  my  sentiments,  also,"   said  Berinthia. 

''  I  see,  Miss  Brandon,  that  you  are  of  the  same 
opinion,  which,  of  course,  I  expected  in  your  case,  but 
liaidly  fiom  ^liss  Newville,"  said  Captam  Coffin. 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  351 

"  Yes,  I  am  of  the  same  way  of  thinking,"  Berin- 
thia  replied. 

"  You  will  not,  ladies,  decline  to  drink  the  health  of 
the  queen,  I  trust?  "  said  General  Howe,  as  Pompey 
refilled  the  glasses. 

"  Oh  no,  I  will  drink  it  with  pleasure.  The  queen, 
of  course,  does  not  stand  for  mismanagement,  as  does 
the  king,  and  we  will  not  spoil  our  dinner  by  talking 
about  the  sad  events,"  Ruth  replied. 

General  Howe  entertained  them  with  an  account  of 
his  boyhood  days,  his  service  with  General  Wolfe  at 
Quebec,  how  the  troops  climbed  the  steep  river  bank 
at  night  and  won  the  battle  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham. 
Captain  Coffin  laughed  with  Berinthia  and  Ruth  over 
good  tunes  he  had  enjoyed  with  them.  Yet  all  were 
conscious  that  spectres  unseen  had  come  to  the  ban- 
quet. The  ghost  confronting  General  Howe  was  whis- 
pering of  starvation,  of  possible  humihation  through 
forced  evacuation;  the  one  glaring  at  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Newville  told  of  a  possible  departure  from  their  home, 
to  become  aliens  in  a  foreign  land. 

"  May  I  ask  Miss  Newville  to  favor  us  with  music  ?  " 
said  General  Howe,  when  they  were  once  more  in  the 
parlor. 

"  With  pleasure,  your  excellency,"  said  Ruth,  seat- 
ing herself  at  the  harpsichord  and  singing  "  The  Frog 
he  would  a- wooing  go,"  "  The  Fine  Old  English  Gen- 
tleman," and  then  with  a  pathos  that  brought  tears 
to  the  eyes  of  the  commander-in-chief,  "True  Love 
can  ne'er  forget." 

During  the  dinner,  and  while  Ruth  was  singing,  they 
could  hear  the  deep  reverberations  of  the  cannonade. 


352       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

The  provincials  in  Roxbury  were  sending  their  shot 
at  General  Howe's  fortifications  on  the  Neck,  and  his 
cannon  in  reply  were  thundering  towards  the  works 
at  Cobble  HiU. 

"Miss  Newville,"  said  General  Howe,  "I  cannot 
express  my  thanks  to  you  for  your  entertainment. 
While  listening  to  your  charming  melodies  I  have 
been  thinking-  of  the  strange,  incongruous  accompani- 
ment, the  uproar  of  the  cannonade,  but  I  have,  in  a 
measure,  been  able  to  forget  for  the  moment  the 
worries  and  perplexities  that  surround  me.  I  trust  I 
may  be  able  to  do  something  to  add  to  your  happiness 
some  day."     He  rose  to  take  his  departure. 

"  Thank  you,  your  excellency ;  I  am  glad  if  I  have 
been  able  in  any  way  to  make  it  a  pleasant  hour  to 
you  and  General  Ruggles,  and  my  old  acquaintance. 
Captain  Coffin.  Your  excellency  can  add  much  to 
my  happiness  and  that  of  Miss  Brandon.  One  of 
your  subordinate  officers,  who  I  think  has  not  been 
long  here,  Colonel  Hardman,  has  notified  Miss  Bran- 
don that  he  is  going  to  take  possession  of  her  home 
to-morrow  and  turn  her  and  her  invalid  parents  out  of 
doors.  Berinthia,  you  have  the  colonel's  order,  I 
think?"! 

Berinthia  took  the  document  from  her  pocket  and 
handed  it  to  General  Howe,  who  ran  his  eye  over  it 
and  seemed  to  be  thinking. 

"•  Is  your  father  loyal  to  the  king,  Miss  Brandon?  " 
he  asked. 

^  '■  I  am  by  a  cruel  necessity  turned  out  of  my  home ;  must  leave 
my  books  and  all  I  possess,  perhaps  to  be  destroyed  by  a  licentious 
soldiery."  Andrew  Eliot  to  Thomas  HoUis,  Proceedings  Mass.  Hist. 
Societi/,  vol.  xvi. 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  353 

"In  the  same  sense  that  I  am,  your  excellency^ 
You  know  that  I  did  not  drink  the  health  of  the  king 
because  I  protest  against  the  course  he  is  pursuing 
towards  the  Colonies  ;  my  father  does  the  same." 

"  You  have  a  brother,  I  think,  in  the  provincial 
army  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  that  Tom  is  there.  He  did  what  he 
could  to  defeat  your  exceUeney  at  Bunker  Hill.  Pos- 
sibly it  was  his  bullet  that  went  through  your  excel- 
lency's coat.  He  attempted  to  defeat  the  king's 
troops  just  as  they  attempted  to  defeat  hun,  and  suc- 
ceeded. You  give  your  allegiance  to  the  king;  he 
gives  his  to  liberty,  and  is  fighting  for  it  just  as  con- 
scientiously as  your  excellency  is  fighting  for  King 
George  and  the  crown." 

"  As  your  father  sides  with  the  provincials,  and  as 
your  brother  is  in  arms  against  our  most  gracious 
sovereign,  may  I  ask  if  you  can  give  any  good  reason 
why  my  subordinate  officer  should  not  take  possession 
of  your  home  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me,  may  I  ask  if  your  excellency  wiU 
kindly  favor  me  with  any  good  reason  why  my  par- 
ents should  be  driven  from  their  beds  in  midwinter, 
that  one  of  the  king's  officers  may  have  comfortable 
quarters  ?  Does  your  excellency  think  such  a  course 
of  conduct  will  tend  to  restore  to  the  king  the  alien- 
ated affections  of  his  late  subjects?  " 

"  Then,  Miss  Brandon,  you  do  not  consider  your- 
self, at  tliis  moment,  one  of  his  subjects  ?  " 

"  I  do  not.  I  cannot  own  allegiance  to  a  sovereign 
who  burns  the  homes  of  an  inoffensive  community, 
standing  for  their  rights  and  ancient  liberties." 


354       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  I  admire  your  frankness,  Miss  Brandon,  as  I  do 
that  of  Miss  Newville.     Have  you  a  pen  at  hand  ?  " 

Ruth  brought  a  pen  and  ink-horn ;  General  Howe 
wrote  upon  the  document,  and  handed  it  to  her. 

"  I  cannot  go  back  on  my  promise  to  do  something 
for  you.  Miss  Newville,  to  add  to  your  happiness  and 
Miss  Brandon's,  and  I  trust  I  never  shaU  do  any- 
thing that  will  lead  you  to  think  I  am  insensible  to 
the  claims  of  humanity,"  he  said,  bowing  and  taking 
his  departure. 

Berinthia  read  what  he  had  written  :  — 

It  is  hereby  ordered  by  the  general-in-chief  com- 
manding his  majesty's  forces,  that  Miss  Brandon  shall 
be  allowed  to  remain  in  possession  of  her  home  till 
this  order  shall  be  countermanded. 

Howe,  Major-General. 

In  bright  uniform,  with  stars  upon  his  breast, 
Colonel  Hartbiian,  accompanied  by  the  members  of 
his  staff,  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  Brandon  home. 
Mark  Antony  was  unceremoniously  pushed  aside,  and 
the  officers  entered  the  hall. 

'"  You  can  inform  the  lady  of  the  house,  nigger, 
that  Colonel  Hardman  and  staff  have  come  to  take 
possession  of  the  premises  and  "  — 

The  sentence  was  not  finished,  for  Berinthia, 
queenly  in  her  dignity,  stood  before  hmi.  Colonel 
Hardman,  obedient  to  etiquette,  removed  his  hat.  It 
was  not  an  old  woman,  wrinkled  and  tootliless,  but  a 
young  lady,  calm  and  self-possessed,  confronting  him. 

"  Is  this  Colonel  Hardman  ?  " 


BRAVE  OF  HEART.  355 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  bear  that  name,  lady." 
"  You  have  come  to  take  possession  of  my  house  ?  " 
"That  is  my  errand.     I  trust  it  will  not  greatly 
inconvenience  you.     I  see  you  have  my  order  of  yes- 
terday in  your  hand,  and  so  are  not  unprepared  for 
my  coming." 

"  It  is  your  order,  and  I  am  not  unprepared,  as 
you  will  see,"  she  said,  handing  him  the  paper. 

He  read  the  writing,  bit  his  lips,  grew  red  in  the 
face,  returned  the  document,  bowed  stiffly,  and  left 
the  hall,  followed  by  his  astonished  suite. 

"  Outwitted  by  a  petticoat,"  he  muttered,  with  an 
oath,  as  he  passed  down  the  street. 


XXIII. 

SUNDERING   OF   HEARTSTRINGS. 

It  was  as  if  one  had  risen  from  the  dead,  when 
Robert  Walden  once  more  entered  the  old  home. 
Father,  mother,  Eachel,  all,  had  thought  of  him  as 
lying  in  a  grave  unknown,  —  having  given  his  life 
for  liberty.  It  was  a  joyful  home.  All  the  town 
came  to  shake  hands  with  him.  His  father  and 
mother  were  older,  the  gray  hairs  upon  their  brows 
more  plentiful,  and  sorrow  had  left  its  mark  on 
Rachel's  face ;  but  her  countenance  was  beautiful  in 
its  cheerful  serenity. 

A  few  days  at  home,  and  Robert  was  once  more 
with  the  army,  commissioned  as  major  upon  the  staff 
of  General  Washington.  Colonel  Knox  the  while  was 
transporting  the  cannon  captured  by  Ethan  Allen  at 
Ticonderoga  across  the  Berkshire  HiUs  to  Cambridge 
—  fifty  guns  mounted  on  sleds,  drawn  by  one  hundred 
oxen. 

The  commander  of  the  army  had  not  forgotten 
what  Major  Walden  had  said  about  the  military 
value  of  Dorchester  Heights.  The  cannon  were 
placed  in  position,  but  not  till  winter  was  nearly 
over  were  the  preparations  completed  for  the  bom- 
bardment of  Boston. 

When  the  sun  set  on  the  afternoon  of  March  2d 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  357 

little  did  Lord  Howe  and  the  ten  thousand  British 
soldiers  imagine  what  was  about  to  happen.  Sud- 
denly from  the  highlands  of  Roxbury,  from  Cobble 
Hill,  from  floating  batteries  in  Charles  River,  cannon- 
balls  were  hurled  upon  the  town.  Bombs  exploded 
in  the  streets ;  one  in  a  guard-house,  wounding  six 
soldiers.  The  redcoats  sprang  to  their  guns,  to  give 
shot  for  shot.  Little  sleep  could  the  people  get, 
through  the  long  wearisome  Saturday  night.  During 
Sunday  the  lips  of  the  cannon  were  silent,  but  with 
the  coming  of  night  again  they  thundered.  General 
Howe  was  wondering  what  Mr.  Washington  was  in- 
tending to  do,  not  mistrusting  there  was  a  long  line 
of  ox-carts  loaded  with  picks  and  spades,  bales  of 
hay,  and  casks  filled  with  stones;  the  teamsters  wait- 
ing till  Major  Walden  should  give  a  signal  for  them 
to  move. 

While  the  cannon  were  flashing.  General  Thomas, 
with  two  thousand  men,  marched  across  the  marshes 
along  Dorchester  Bay  and  up  the  hill  overlooking  the 
harbor.  Major  Walden  gave  the  signal,  and  the 
farmers  started  their  teams,  —  those  with  picks,  and 
spades,  and  casks  following  the  soldiers;  those  with 
hay  halting  on  the  marsh  land,  unloading,  and  piling 
the  bales  in  a  hue  so  as  to  screen  the  passage.  Major 
Walden,  General  Rufus  Putnam,  and  Colonel  Grid- 
ley  hastened  to  the  summit  of  the  hill  in  advance  of 
the  troops.  Colonel  Gridley  marked  the  lines  for  a 
fortification;  the  soldiers  stacked  their  arms,  seized 
picks  and  spades,  and  broke  the  frozen  earth.  The 
moon  was  at  its  full.  From  the  hiU,  the  soldiers 
could  look  down  upon  the  harbor  and  see  the  warships 


358       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

and  great  fleet  of  transports,  with  masts  and  yardarms 
outlined  in  the  refidgent  light.  Robert  expected  to 
see  a  cannon  flash  upon  the  Scarborough,  the  nearest 
battleship  ;  but  the  sentinel  pacing  the  deck  heard  no 
sound  of  delving  pick  or  shovel.  Walden  piloted  the 
carts  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  placed  the  casks  in 
such  position  that  they  could  be  set  rolling  down  the 
steep  at  a  moment's  notice.  The  soldiers  chuckled  at 
the  thought  of  the  commotion  they  would  make  in  the 
ranks  of  the  redcoats,  were  they  to  make  an  assault 
and  suddenly  see  the  casks  rolling  and  tumbling, 
sweeping  all  before  them  ! 

General  Howe  was  astonished,  when  daylight 
dawned,  to  see  an  embankment  of  yellow  earth  crown- 
ing the  hill  overlooking  the  harbor. 

"  The  rebels  have  done  more  in  a  night  than  my 
army  would  have  done  in  a  month,"  he  said,  after 
looking  at  the  works  with  his  telescope.  What  should 
he  do  ?  Mr.  Washington's  cannon  would  soon  be 
sending  shot  and  shell  upon  the  warships,  the  trans- 
ports, and  the  town.  The  provincials  must  be  driven 
from  the  spot  at  once ;  otherwise,  there  could  be  no 
safety  for  the  fleet,  neither  for  his  army.  He  called 
his  oflicers  together  in  council. 

"  We  must  drive  the  rebels  just  as  we  did  at  Bun- 
k('r  Hill,  or  they  will  drive  us  out  of  the  town.  There 
is  nothing  else  to  be  done,"  said  General  Clinton. 

General  Howe  agreed  with  him.  A  battle  must  be 
fought,  and  the  sooner  the  better.  Every  moment 
saw  the  fortifications  growing  stronger.  But  what 
would  l)p  the  outcome  of  a  battle?  Could  he  embark 
liis  army  in  boats,  land  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  climla 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  359 

the  steep  ascent,  and  drive  the  rebels  with  the  bayonet? 
At  Bunker  Hill  there  was  only  a  rabble,  —  regiments 
without  a  commander ;  but  now  Mr.  Washington 
was  in  command ;  his  troops  were  in  a  measure  disci- 
plined. That  he  was  energetic,  far-seeing,  and  calcu- 
lating, he  could  not  doubt.  Had  he  not  transported 
heavy  cannon  across  the  country  from  Lake  Cham- 
plain  to  bombard  the  to^vn?  Evidently  Mr.  Wash- 
ington was  a  man  who  could  bide  his  time.  Such 
men  were  not  likely  to  leave  anything  at  haphazard. 
One  third  of  those  assaulting  Bunker  Hill  had  been 
cut  down  by  the  fire  of  the  rebels.  Could  he  hope 
for  any  less  a  sacrifice  of  his  army  in  attacking  a  more 
formidable  position,  with  the  rebels  more  securely 
intrenched  ?  It  was  not  pleasant  to  contemplate  the 
possible  result,  but  an  assault  must  be  made. 

From  the  housetop,  Berinthia  saw  boats  from 
the  vessels  in  the  harbor,  gathering  at  Long  Wharf. 
Drums  were  beating,  troops  marching.  Abraham 
Duncan  came  with  the  information  that  four  or  five 
thousand  men  were  to  assault  the  works  and  drive  the 
provincials  pell-mell  across  the  marshes  to  Roxbury. 
At  any  rate,  that  was  the  plan.  He  was  sure  it  would 
be  a  bloody  battle.  Possibly,  while  General  Howe 
was  engaged  at  Dorchester  Heights,  Mr.  Washington 
might  be  doing  something  else. 

Neither  General  Howe  nor  any  one  within  the 
British  Imes  knew  just  what  the  provincial  comman- 
der had  planned,  —  that  the  moment  the  redcoats 
began  the  attack.  General  Israel  Putnam,  on  Cobble 
Hill,  between  Charlestown  and  Cambridge,  with  four 
thousand    men,    would    leap    into    boats,    cross    the 


360       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Charles,  and  land  on  the  Common ;  that  General  Na- 
thanael  Greene  with  a  large  force  would  advance  from 
Roxbury,  and  together  they  would  grind  the  British 
to  powder,  like  corn  in  a  mill. 

It  was  mid-forenoon  when  Major  Walden  escorted 
General  Wasliington  across  the  marsh  land  and  along 
the  path  to  Dorchester  Heights.  The  troops  swung 
their  hats  and  gave  a  cheer  when  they  saw  their  com- 
mander ascending  the  hill.  He  lifted  his  hat,  and 
thanked  them  for  having  constructed  such  strong  in- 
trenchments  in  so  short  a  time. 

"  It  is  the  fifth  of  March,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am 
sure  you  will  remember  it  is  the  anniversary  of  the 
massacre  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty." 

In  Boston  diiims  were  beating,  regiments  marching ; 
but  suddenly  the  wind,  which  ha<l  blown  from  the 
west,  changed  to  the  east ;  and  the  sea  waves  were 
rolling  up  the  bay,  making  it  impossible  for  the  Som- 
erset, Scarborough,  Boyne,  and  the  other  ships,  to 
spread  their  sails  and  take  position  to  bombard  the 
works  of  the  rebels ;  neither  coidd  General  Howe  em- 
bark the  troops  upon  the  dancing  boats.  The  clouds 
were  hanging  low,  and  rain  falling.  Not  till  the  wind 
changed  and  the  sea  calmed  could  there  be  a  battle ; 
General  Howe  must  wait. 

Night  came  ;  the  rain  was  still  pouring.  The  pro- 
vincials wiapped  their  overcoats  closely  around  them, 
kindled  fires,  ate  their  bread  and  beef,  told  stories, 
sang  songs,  and  kept  ward  and  watch  through  the 
dreary  liours. 

Morning  dawned  ;  the  wind  was  still  east,  and  the 
waves    lolling  in   from  the  sea.     With    gloom  upon 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  361 

his  brow,  General  Howe  with  his  telescope  examined 
the  fortifications.  Could  he  hope  to  capture  them? 
Doubtful.  Exasperating,  humiliating,  the  reflection 
that  Mr.  Washington  was  in  a  position  to  compel  him 
to  evacuate  the  town.  Only  a  few  days  before,  he 
had  written  Lord  Dartmouth  he  was  in  no  danger 
from  the  rebels ;  he  only  wished  Mr.  Washington 
would  have  the  audacity  to  make  a  movement  against 
him ;  but  now  he  must  pack  up  and  be  off,  give  up 
what  he  had  held  so  long,  and  confess  defeat.  What 
would  the  king  say  ?  What  the  people  of  England  ? 
He  did  not  like  to  think  of  what  had  come.  But  he 
must  save  the  army.  What  of  the  citizens  who  had 
maintained  their  loyalty  to  the  king  ?  Should  he 
leave  them  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  exasperated 
provincials  whose  homes  had  been  burned  ?  He  could 
not  do  that.  If  Theodore  Newville,  Nathaniel  Coffin, 
or  any  of  the  thousand  or  more  wealthy  citizens  were 
willing  to  remain  loyal,  if  they  were  ready  to  become 
aliens  and  fugitives  and  exiles,  he  must  do  what  he 
could  for  them. 

"  What  is  it,  husband  ? "  Mrs.  Newville  asked  as 
Mr.  NewviUe  entered  his  house,  and  she  beheld  his 
countenance,  white,  haggard,  and  woe-begone. 

"  What  has  happened,  father  ?  "  Ruth  asked,  lead- 
ing him,  trembling  and  tottering,  to  his  chair. 

"  It  has  come,"  he  gasped,  resting  his  elbows  on  his 
knees  and  covering  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  What  has  come  ?  "  Mrs.  Newville  inquired. 

"The  end  of  the  king's  authority  in  this  town." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 


362        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  The  army  is  going,  and  we  have  got  to  go." 

"Go  where?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  only  we  have  got  to  leave  this 
home,  never  to  see  it  again,  and  be  aliens  the  rest  of 
our  lives,"  he  said,  groaning  and  sobbing. 

"•  Why  must  the  army  go  ? "  Mrs.  Newville  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Because  General  Howe  cannot  stay.  The  provin- 
cials are  in  a  position  to  sink  his  ships  and  set  the 
town  on  fire  with  their  bombs." 

"  Can't  General  Howe  drive  Mr.  Washington  from 
the  hill  just  as  he  did  at  Charlestown  ?  " 

"  He  was  going  to  do  it  yesterday,  but  the  sea 
wouldn't  let  him,  and  now  it  is  too  late." 

"  He  must  do  it,  and  I  will  go  and  tell  him  so. 
Leave  our  home  and  become  wanderers  and  vaga- 
bonds ?     Never  !  "  she  cried  with  flashing  eyes. 

••'It  is  decided.  Orders  have  been  issued.  The 
fear  is  that  the  provincials  may  open  fire  upon  the 
fleet  and  sink  the  ships  before  the  army  can  get  away." 

"  Why  did  n't  General  Howe  take  possession  of  the 
hill,  and  prevent  the  provincials  from  doing  it  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  knows,  and  perhaps  General  Howe 
does,  but  I  don't.  I  have  seen  for  some  time  what 
might  ha})i)en,  and  now  We  have  it.  We  have  got  to 
go,  and  God  help  us."' 

Mrs.  Newville,  overwhelmed,  tottered  to  a  chair. 

"  So  this  is  what  Sam  Adams  and  John  Hancock 
liave  done.  I  hate  them.  But  why  must  we  go? 
A\  hy  not  stay?  We  have  as  good  a  right  to  stay  as 
tlicy.      Give  u])  our  home  ?     Never !     Never  !  " 

\\  itli  flasliing  eyes,  and  teeth  set  firmly  together. 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  363 

she  rose,  and  took  a  step  or  two  as  if  ready  to  con- 
front a  foe. 

"  We  cannot  stay,"  said  Mr.  Newville.  "  We  have 
given  our  allegiance  to  the  king ;  I  have  held  office 
under  the  crown,  and  the  Great  and  General  Court 
will  confiscate  iny  estate,  and  we  shall  be  beggars. 
More  than  that,  I  probably  shall  be  seized  and  thrown 
into  jail.  There 's  no  knowing  what  they  will  do. 
Possibly  my  lifeless  body  may  yet  dangle  from  the 
gallows,  where  murderers  have  paid  the  penalty  of 
their  crimes." 

Mrs.  Newville  wrung  her  hands,  and  gave  way  to 
sobs  and  moans.  Ruth  had  stood  a  silent  spectator, 
but  sat  down  now  by  her  mother,  put  an  arm  around 
her,  and  wiped  away  the  tears  coursing  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  I  have  n't  told  you  all,"  said  Mr.  Newville. 
"  General  Howe  threatens  to  burn  the  town  if  Mr. 
Washington  opens  fire  upon  the  ships." 

"  General  Howe  threatens  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Newville. 

"  Yes ;  John  Scollay  and  several  of  us  have  asked 
General  Robertson  to  intercede  with  Howe.  He  has 
done  so,  but  Howe  will  make  no  promise.  He  has 
permitted  a  flag  of  truce  to  go  out  to  Mr.  Washington 
to  let  him  know  if  the  British  are  molested  he  will 
set  the  town  on  fire.  If  Mr.  Wasliington  is  the 
kind-hearted  man  they  say  he  is,  probably  he  will 
not  make  an  attack.  He  wants  to  compel  Howe  to 
get  out  and  to  have  the  town  spared.  We  are  not 
the  only  ones  who  will  suffer,  but  everybody  who  has 
stood  for  the  king-  wiU  have  to  go  or  take  the  con- 


364        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

sequences  when  the  provincials  march  in.  They  will 
be  implacable  in  their  retaliation  for  the  burning  of 
Charlestown  and  Falmouth,  and  for  the  destruction 
of  the  Old  North  Meetinghouse,  the  desecration  of  the 
Old  South,  and  the  pulling  down  of  hundreds  of 
houses.  They  will  confiscate  the  property  of  every 
one  who  has  adhered  to  the  crown,  and  make  them 
beggars,  or  send  them  out  of  the  Province,  or  perhaps 
do  both.  We  may  as  well  look  the  matter  squarely 
in  the  face,  for  we  have  got  to  face  it." 

It  was  spoken  with  quivering  hps.  Several  vessels 
had  been  designated  on  which  the  friends  of  the  king 
might  embark  for  Halifax,  the  only  port  near  at  hand 
where  they  could  find  refuge.  He  looked  aromid 
the  room,  gazed  mournfully  at  the  portraits  of  his 
ancestors  on  the  walls,  at  the  rich  mahogany  furni- 
ture, the  mirrors  above  the  mantel  reflecting  the 
scene.  In  the  dining-room  was  the  buffet  with  its 
rich  furnishings.  Ujjon  the  stairs  was  the  clock, 
its  pendulum  swinging  as  it  had  swung  since  the  days 
of  his  boyhood.  Upon  the  sideboard  were  the  tea- 
urns  used  on  many  convivial  afternoons  and  evenings. 
Whichever  way  he  turned  he  saw  that  which  had  con- 
tributed to  his  ease,  comfort,  and  happiness.  Looking 
out  of  the  window,  he  saw  the  buds  were  beginning  to 
swell  upon  the  trees  under  the  genial  rays  of  the  sun. 
The  1i)luebirds  and  robins  had  arrived  and  were  sing- 
ing in  the  garden.  A  few  more  days  and  the  grass 
would  be  springing  fresh  and  green,  the  asparagTis 
throwing  up  its  shoots,  the  cherry-trees  white  with 
blooms,  the  lilacs  and  roses  perfmuing  the  air ;  but 
never  ajiain  was  he  to  sit  beneath  the  vine-dad  arbor 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  365 

as  he  had  sat  in  former  years,  Ustening  to  Nature's 
symphony  rehearsed  by  singing  birds ;  never  agam 
was  he  to  see  the  coming  of  ecstatic  life  in  bud  and 
blossom.  He  must  bid  farewell  forever  to  all  the 
enchanting  scenes,  pull  up  by  the  roots,  as  it  were,  all 
cherished  things.  What  should  he  take  ?  What  leave 
behind?  There  woidd  be  Uttle  room  on  shipboard 
for  the  richly  carved  mahogany  chairs,  sideboard,  sofa, 
portraits  of  liis  ancestors.  What  use  woidd  he  have 
for  them  in  exile?  How  dispose  of  them?  Who 
would  purchase  them  ?  No  one.  How  would  he  live 
in  a  foreign  land  ?  How  occupy  his  time  ?  His  man- 
sion was  his  own ;  he  was  possessor  of  other  houses 
and  lands,  but  all  would  be  seized.  He  could  take 
his  silver  plate,  his  gold  and  silver  coin  ;  not  much  else. 

"  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  has  it  come  to  this  !  "  Mrs. 
Newville  exclaimed,  "  when  we  might  have  been  far 
away,  having  everything  heart  could  wish ! " 

She  cast  a  reproachful  look  upon  Ruth. 

"  Oh,  if  you  had  only  done  as  I  wanted !  " 

A  gentle  hand  wiped  the  tears  from  the  mother's 
face. 

"  Mother,  dear,  the  past  is  gone,  never  to  return. 
If  it  were  to  come  again,  bringing  Lord  Upperton, 
my  answer  to  him  would  be  as  it  was.  We  will  let 
that  pass.  I  know  your  every  thought  has  been  for 
my  welfare  and  happiness.  I  trust  I  have  not  been 
ungrateful  for  all  you  have  done  for  me  and  for  all 
you  thought  to  do.  I  have  not  seen  things  as  you 
have  seen  them.  You  have  been  loyal  to  King- 
George  ;  you  could  hardly  do  otherwise  with  father 
holding  an  office  under  the  crown.     I  have  given  my 


366       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

sympathies  to  the  provincials,  because  I  believe  they 
are  standing  for  what  is  right.  My  heart  has  gone 
out  to  one  who,  I  doubt  not,  is  over  on  yonder  hill  in 
arms  against  the  king.  I  know  the  greatness  of  his 
love,  that  he  will  be  always  true  to  me,  as  I  shall  be 
to  him." 

The  hand  was  still  wiping  away  the  tears ;  she  was 
sitting  between  her  father  and  mother,  and  laid  the 
other  hand  upon  the  father's  palm. 

"  Through  these  winter  nights,  dear  father  and 
mother,  while  hearing  the  cannon  and  the  bursting 
shells,  I  have  been  looking  forward  to  tliis  hour  which 
has  come  at  last." 

Tears  stood  in  her  eyes,  and  her  voice  became  trem- 
idous. 

'■'  We  have  come  to  the  parting  hour.  You  will  go, 
but  I  shall  stay,  —  stay  to  save  the  house,  so  that,  by 
and  by,  when  the  heat  of  passion  has  cooled,  and  the 
fire  of  hate  is  only  ashes,  when  the  war  is  over  and 
peace  has  come,  as  come  it  will,  you  can  return  to  the 
old  home." 

"  Leave  you  behind,  Ruth !  " 

"•  Yes,  mother." 

'^  To  be  insulted  and  abused  by  the  hatefid  rebels ! 
Never  !  " 

"  I  shall  not  be  insulted.  I  am  sure  I  shall  be 
kindly  treated.  Do  you  think  my  old  friends  wiU  do 
anything  to  annoy  me  ?  Why  shoidd  they,  when  they 
know  tliat  I  myself  am  a  rebel  ?  Mr.  Sam  Adams  has 
always  been  my  good  friend.  Have  I  not  sat  m  his 
lap  in  my  girlhood?  Are  not  Lucy  Flucker  Knox, 
Dorothy    (^uincy,    and     Abigail    Smith    Adams    my 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  367 

friends?  Has  not  Mr.  John  Hancock  danced  with  me? 
Have  I  done  anything  that  should  cause  them  to  turn 
against  me  ?  Pompey  and  Phillis  will  be  here  to  care 
for  me.  And  now,  dear  father,  I  have  one  or  two 
requests  to  make.  This  is  your  house,  but  I  want  you 
to  give  it  to  me,  —  make  out  a  deed  and  execute  it 
in  my  name ;  and  one  thing  more,  I  want  you  to  give 
me  a  bill  of  sale  of  Pompey  and  Phillis,  so  that  I 
shall  be  absolute  mistress  here.  When  the  Colonies, 
by  their  valor  and  the  righteousness  of  their  cause, 
have  become  independent  of  the  king,  when  the  last 
cannon  has  been  fired,  in  God's  good  time  you  will 
come  back  and  find  me  here  in  the  old  home." 

Mr.  Newville  sat  in  silence  a  moment,  then  put  his 
arm  around  her  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"  Oh  Ruth,  daughter,  you  are  dearer  to  me  this 
moment  than  ever  before.  Your  clear  vision  has  seen 
what  I  have  not  been  able  to  see,  —  till  now,  —  the 
possible  end  of  this  conflict.  The  provincials  are 
stronger  than  I  supposed  them  to  be,  the  disaffection 
wider,  and  the  king  is  weaker  than  I  thought.  It 
never  seemed  possible  that  an  army  of  ten  thousand 
men  could  be  forced  to  evacuate  this  town,  but  so  it 
is,  and  I  must  go.  I  will  not  be  so  selfish  as  to  ask 
you  to  go.  I  know  your  love  has  gone  out  to  Robert 
Walden.  I  have  no  right  to  ask  you  to  thrust  a  sword 
into  your  own  loving  heart.  I  do  not  doubt  he  will 
protect  you  with  all  the  strength  of  a  noble  manhood. 
This  house  shall  be  yours,  together  with  Pompey  and 
Phillis,  who  will  be  as  dutiful  to  you  as  they  have  been 
to  your  mother  and  me.  You  speak  of  our  coming 
back,  but  wlien  we  once  leave  this  house  we  never  shall 


368       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

behold  it  again ;  nor  shall  we  ever  look  again  upon 
your  face  unless  you  come  where  we  may  be.  Where 
that  will  be,  God  only  knows  ;  we  shall  be  fugitives 
and  wanderers  without  a  home.  Your  mother  and  I 
will  not  long  need  an  earthly  home.  Such  a  wound 
as  this  goes  down  deep  into  our  souls,  Ruth." 

He  could  say  no  more,  but  hid  his  face  in  his  hands 
to  hide  the  agony  of  a  breaking  heart. 

"  Father,  have  you  forgotten  who  it  is  that  feeds 
the  ravens  and  cares  for  the  sparrows  ?  Will  He  not 
care  for  you  ?  Of  one  thing  you  may  be  sure,  so  soon 
as  it  is  possible  to  do  so  I  shall  seek  you  wherever  you 
may  be  :  and  now  we  will  prepare  for  your  going." 

She  kissed  the  tears  from  his  face,  cheered  the  de- 
sponding mother,  and  began  to  select  whatever  would 
most  contribute  to  their  comfort. 

Abraham  Duncan,  as  he  walked  the  streets,  beheld 
men  with  haggard  faces  and  women  wringing  their 
hands  and  giving  way  to  lamentations.  In  their  loy- 
alty to  the  king,  they  never  had  dreamed  that  the 
provincials  could  compel  a  disciplined  army  to  quit 
the  town.  They  had  been  informed  that  with  the 
opening  of  spring  the  rebels  would  be  scattered  to  the 
winds.  In  their  loyalty  they  had  organized  them- 
selves into  militia  and  received  arms  from  General 
Howe  to  fight  for  King  George.  As  by  a  lightning 
flash  all  had  been  changed.  Those  who  had  thus  or- 
ganized knew  they  woidd  be  despised  by  the  provin- 
cials and  hardly  dealt  with  ;  that  houses  and  lands 
would  be  seized  and  sold  to  make  restitution  for  the 
l)urnin<'  of  (liarlestowu  and  buildinos  torn  down  in 


SUNDERING  OF  HEARTSTRINGS.         369 

Boston.  They  who  had  lived  in  affluence,  who  had 
delightfvil  homes  on  the  slopes  of  Beacon  Hill,  must 
leave  them.  All  dear  old  things  must  be  sacrificed 
and  family  ties  rutlilessly  sundered.  Fathers  had 
sons  whose  sympathies  were  with  the  provincials ; 
mothers,  other  than  Mrs.  Newville,  had  daughters 
whose  true,  loves  were  marshaled  under  flags  floating 
on  Dorchester  Heights.  Had  not  Colonel  Henry 
Knox  sighted  the  cannon  which  sent  the  ball  whirling 
towards  the  early  home  of  his  loving  wife,  the  home 
where  her  father  and  mother  and  sisters  were  still 
living,  which  they  must  leave  ?  The  sword  drawn  on 
Lexington  Common  was  severing  tender  heartstrings. 
There  was  a  hurly-burly  in  the  streets,  —  drums 
beating,  soldiers  marching,  a  rumbling  of  cannon 
and  wagons,  the  removal  of  furniture.  Eleven  hun- 
dred men  and  women  were  preparing  to  bid  farewell 
to  their  native  land  and  homes. 

The  final  hour  came.  Pompey  had  seen  the  trunks 
and  boxes  safely  stowed  upon  the  ship  in  which  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  NewviUe,  Nathaniel  Coffin,  the  king's 
receiver-general,  and  Thomas  Flucker  were  to  find 
passage.  With  a  cane  to  steady  his  tottering  ste^s, 
Mr.  Newville  took  a  last  look  of  the  home  where  his 
life  had  been  passed  ;  the  house  in  which  his  eyes  first 
saw  the  light;  where  a  mother,  many  years  in  her 
grave,  had  caressed  him ;  where  a  father  had  guided 
his  toddling  steps  ;  the  home  to  which  he  had  brought 
his  bride  in  the  bloom  of  a  beautiful  maidenhood ; 
where  Ruth  had  come  to  them  as  the  blessing  of  God 
to  make  the  house  resound  with  prattle  and  laughter, 


370       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

and  fill  it  with  the  sunlight  of  her  presence ;  make  it 
attractive  by  her  grace  and  beauty,  —  the  soul  beauty 
that  looked  out  from  loving  eyes  and  became,  as  it 
were,  a  benediction.  He  was  to  go,  she  to  stay.  God 
above  would  be  her  guardian. 

Mrs.  NewviUe  walked  as  in  a  daze  from  parlor  to 
chamber,  from  dining-room  to  hall  and  kitchen. 
Was  she  awake  or  dreaming?  Must  she  leave  her 
home,  —  the  home  that  had  been  so  blissful,  so  hos- 
pitable? Was  she  never  again  to  welcome  a  guest 
to  that  table,  never  hear  the  merry  chatter  of  voices 
in  parlor  or  garden?  Oh,  if  Sam  Adams  and  John 
Hancock  had  only  been  content  to  let  things  go  on  as 
they  always  had  gone !  If  Ruth  had  only  accepted 
Lord  Upperton's  suit !  Why  could  n't  she  ?  What 
ought  she  to  take,  what  would  she  most  need? 
What  sort  of  accommodations  would  they  find  at  Hali- 
fax ?  Why  could  n't  Ruth  go  with  them  ?  It  was  the 
questioning  of  a  mind  stunned  by  the  sudden  stroke ; 
of  a  spirit  all  but  crushed  by  the  terrible  calamity. 

"  I  have  put  in  everything  I  could  think  of  that 
will  in  any  way  make  you  comfortable,  mother  dear," 
said  Ruth,  mentioning  the  articles. 

"  I  've  put  up  some  jelly  and  jam  for  ye,  missus," 
said  Phyllis. 

Berinthia  Brandon  and  Abraham  Duncan  came  to 
bid  thein  farewell,  and  to  help  Ruth  prepare  for  their 
dei)arture. 

It  was  Ruth's  strong  arm  that  upheld  her  mother 
as  they  slowly  walked  the  street  on  their  way  to  the 
ship.  It  was  a  mournful  spectacle.  Not  they  alone, 
but  Mr.  Shriuipton  and  Mary,  Nathaniel  Coffin  and 


SUNDERING  OF  HEARTSTRINGS.  371 

wife  and  John,  and  a  hundred  of  Ruth's  acquaintances 
were  on  the  wharf  preparing  to  go  on  board  the  ships. 

"  This  is  what  has  come  from  Sam  Adams's  med- 
dling," said  Mr.  Shrimpton.  "  May  the  Devil  take 
him  and  John  Hancock.  They  ought  to  be  hanged,  and 
I  hope  King  George  will  yet  have  a  chance  to  string 
'em  up  —  curse  'em !  I  'd  like  to  see  'em  dangling 
from  the  gibbet,  and  the  crows  picking  their  bones," 
he  said,  smiting  his  fists  together,  walking  to  and  fro. 

He  was  bidding  farewell  to  home,  —  to  the  house 
in  which  he  was  born.  He  had  farms  in  the  county, 
wide  reaches  of  woodland,  fields,  and  pastures.  The 
provincials  would  confiscate  them.  In  his  declining 
years  all  his  property  was  to  slip  through  his  fingers, 
and  he  was  to  totter  in  penury  to  his  grave. 

"  I  shall  eidist  in  the  service  of  the  king  and  fight 
'em,"  said  John  Coffin,  who  had  shown  his  loyalty  by 
accompanying  General  Howe  to  the  battle  of  Bunker 
HiU. 

"  And  I  hope  you  '11  have  a  chance  to  put  a  bullet 
through  the  carcass  of  Sam  Adams,"  said  Mr.  Shrimp- 
ton. 

It  was  his  daughter's  hand  that  gniided  him  over 
the  gang-plank  to  the  deck  of  the  Queen  Charlotte. 

"  Let  me  put  this  muffler  round  your  neck  ;  the  air 
is  chill  and  you  are  shivering,"  said  Mary,  gently 
leading  liim. 

With  chattering  teeth  and  curses  on  his  lips  for 
those  whom  he  regarded  as  authors  of  his  misfortimes, 
Abel  Shrimpton,  led  by  his  daughter,  descended  the 
winding  stairs  to  the  cabin  of  the  ship. 

"  Here  are  the  rugs  and  shawls,  mother,  and  here 


372       DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

is  the  wolf-skin,  father,  to  wrap  around  you,"  said 
Ruth. 

They  were  in  the  stifling  cabin,  the  departing  loyal- 
ists sitting  as  in  a  daze,  stupefied,  stunned  by  the 
sudden  calamity,  wondering  if  it  were  not  a  horrid 
dream. 

To  Mary  Shrimpton  and  Ruth  Newville  it  was  no 
phantom,  no  hallucination,  but  a  reality,  an  exigency, 
demanding  calm  reflection,  wise  judgment,  and  prompt, 
decisive  action.  They  had  talked  it  over,  —  each  in 
the  other's  confidence. 

"  You  must  go  and  I  will  stay ;  you  will  care  for 
them  all ;  I  will  look  after  things  here.  This  war 
will  not  last  always.  You  will  all  come  back  some 
time,"  said  Ruth,  her  abiding  faith  rising  supreme 
above  the  agony  of  the  parting. 

"  I  wdll  care  for  them,"  had  been  the  calm  reply  of 
Mary. 

"  Oh,  missus  !  I  can't  bear  to  have  ye  go,  you  's 
been  good  to  me  always.  I  'se  packed  a  luncheon  for 
ye,"  said  Phillis,  kneeling  upon  the  floor,  clasping  the 
knees  of  her  departing  mistress,  crpng  and  sobbing. 

"  Oh,  massa  and  missus,  old  Pomp  can't  tell  ye 
how  good  ye  've  been  to  him.  He  '11  be  good  to  Miss 
Ruth.  He  '11  pray  for  de  good  Lord  to  bless  ye,  every 
night,  as  he  always  has," — the  benediction  of  the 
slave  kneeling  by  PhilHs's  side. 

Long  and  tender  was  the  last  embrace  of  the  mother 
and  daughter,  —  of  the  father  and  his  beloved  child. 
AVith  tears  blinding  her  eyes,  with  tottering  steps, 
Ruth  passed  across  the  gang-plank.  A  sailor  drew 
it  in.  and  unloosed  tlie  cable.      The  vessel  swung  with 


SUNDERING   OF  HEARTSTRINGS  373 

the  tide  from  its  moorings,  the  jib  and  mainsail 
filled  with  the  breeze,  and  glided  away.  The  weeping 
crowd  upon  its  deck  saw  Ruth  standing  upon  the 
wharf,  her  countenance  serene,  pure,  and  peaceful, 
with  tears  upon  her  face,  gazing  at  the  receding  ship. 
Those  around  her  beheld  her  steady  herself  against 
the  post  which  had  held  the  cable,  standing  there  till 
the  Queen  Charlotte  was  but  a  white  speck  dotting 
the  landscape  in  the  lower  harbor,  then  walking  with 
faltering  steps  to  her  desolate  home. 


XXIV. 

IN   THE   OLD   HOME. 

"  Here,  Miss  Ruth,  I  has  a  cordial  for  ye.  Drink 
it,  honey,"  said  Phillis  as  Rnth  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  Don't  be  down-hearted,  Miss  Ruth ;  old  Pomp  will 
take  keer  of  j^e." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.  You  and  Phillis  have  always 
been  good  to  nie,  and  now  I  have  something  to  say  to 
both  of  you.     AVould  you  like  to  be  free,  Pompey?  " 

"  Woidd  I  like  to  be  free.  Miss  Ruth  ?  "  the  negro 
asked,  hardly  knowing  what  to  make  of  the  question. 

"  Yes,  would  you  like  to  be  free,  to  own  yourself, 
to  come  and  go  as  you  please  ?  " 

"  'Deed  I  would.  Miss  Ruth.  Massa  and  missus 
was  always  very  good  to  old  Pomp,  but  'pears  I  would 
like  to  be  myself." 

She  rose  and  took  Pompey  and  Phillis  by  their 
hands. 

"  Your  old  master  has  given  you  both  to  me,  and 
now  1  give  you  to  yourselves.  You  are  both  free  now 
and  forever,"  said  Ruth. 

"  Free  !     Miss  Ruth  !     Did  you  say  we  is  free  ?  " 

''  Yes,  you  ai-e  no  longer  slaves ;  you  can  go  and 
come,  now  and  always:  you  are  your  own." 

'•  Oil.  Miss  Ruth,  old  Pomj)  never  will  leave  ye, 
never.      ( )1(1  Pomp  free  I      'Pears  like  de  New  Jerusa- 


IN  THE  OLD  HOME.  375 

lem  has  come,"  said  the  negro,  sinking  upon  his  knees, 
kissing  her  hand  and  bathing  it  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ruth,  honey,  I  has  held  ye  in  my  arms 
when  ye  was  a  little  baby,  toted  ye  in  de  garding  when 
de  flowers  was  bloomin',  rocked  ye  to  sleep  when  ye 
was  pinin' ;  I  've  seen  ye  grow  to  be  a  woman,  and 
now  ye  is  my  missus  tellin'  me  I  'm*  free.  I  '11  cook 
de  chicken  and  de  johnny-cake  for  ye  till  I  can't  cook 
no  more,"  said  Phillis,  clasping  Ruth  in  her  arms, 
with  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks  and  laughter  bub- 
bling from  her  lips. 

The  foresight  that  had  seen  the  probable  departure 
of  the  British  troops  was  forecasting  the  immediate 
future ;  that  the  interval  before  the  arrival  of  General 
Washington's  army  would  be  one  of  peril,  from  vaga- 
bonds, camp-followers,  and  the  ragamuffins  enlisted 
by  Creen  Brush,  commissioned  by  General  Howe  to 
organize  a  battalion  of  Tories.  Through  the  day  the 
British  regiments  were  sullenly  taking  their  departure. 
Pompey  informed  Ruth  that  the  vagabonds  had  begun 
to  plunder  the  stores  and  break  into  houses. 

"  Dey  won't  git  into  dis  yeer  house,  honey.  I  'se  got 
de  water  b'ilin'  hot  in  de  kitchen  for  'em,"  said  Phillis. 

Ruth  did  not  doubt  a  mansion  like  hers  woidd 
attract  the  villains,  and  determined  to  defend  herself 
against  all  intruders.  General  Howe  was  going  on 
shipboard;  no  longer  would  she  recognize  his  author- 
ity or  that  of  any  subordinate  officer.  Years  before, 
her  father  had  been  member  of  a  battahon  of  horse- 
men. The  pistols  he  carried  then  were  in  a  closet. 
Pompey  brought  them,  fixed  the  flints,  oiled  the  locks, 
and  found  a  liorn  of  powder,  but  no  bullets. 


376       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  Perliajis  it  is  just  as  well,  Pompey,  for  if  I  were 
to  have  a  bullet,  I  might  kill  somebody,  and  I  would 
not  like  to  do  that,"  she  said. 

"  If  ye  are  goin'  to  shoot,  better  shoot  to  kill,  Miss 
Ruth,"  said  Pompey. 

"  I  never  liave  fired  a  pistol,  Pompey ;  how  do  you 
doit?" 

"  I  '11  show  ye,  missus,"  said  the  negro,  putting 
some  powder  in  the  pan  and  cocking  the  pistol. 

"  Now,  Miss  Ruth,  you  jes'  pull  de  trigger  and  it 
wiU  flash." 

They  were  in  the  kitchen.  Ruth  pointed  the  weapon 
toward  the  fireplace  and  pulled  the  trigger.  There 
was  a  flash  and  a  bang. 

"  O  Lord  !  Missus  !  "  shouted  Phillis,  dropping  on 
the  floor. 

"  'Pears,  Miss  Ruth,  like  she 's  been  loaded  all 
dese  years,"  said  Pompey,  his  eyeballs  rolling  in  as- 
tonislunent. 

"  It  appears  I  have  found  out  how  to  fire,"  said 
Ruth,  laughing.    "  But  how  do  you  load  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

Pompey  poured  a  charge  of  powder  into  his  hand, 
emptied  it  into  the  barrel,  and  rammed  it  do^vn  ^vith 
a  wad  of  paper. 

"  AVe  liave  n't  any  bullets,  but  we  can  use  gravel- 
stones  or  dried  peas  or  a  tallow  candle.  I  've  seen  a 
candle  fired  right  through  a  board.  Miss  Ruth,"  he 
said. 

"-  AVe  "U  load  them  with  powder  now ;  perhaps  we 
shan't  need  anything  else,"  Ruth  replied. 

In  the  gathering  darkness  Phillis  saw  a  redcoat  re- 
connoitring the  grounds.      He  rapped  upon  the  door 


IN  THE  OLD  HOME.  377 

leading  to  the  kitchen.  She  did  not  unloose  the 
chain,  but  opened  it  sufficiently  wide  to  talk  with  the 
fellow. 

"  What  d'  ye  want  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  want  to  come  in." 

"  What  d'  ye  want  to  come  in  for  ?  " 

"  To  see  if  ye  have  anything  belonging  to  the  king. 
People  have  seized  the  king's  property  and  taken  it 
into  their  houses." 

"  We  have  n't  anything  belonging  to  King  George," 

"  Open  the  door  or  I  '11  break  it  down." 

"  Go  away.  Dere  can't  no  lobster  come  into  dis 
yeer  kitchen,"  said  Phillis,  attempting  to  close  the  door. 
But  she  saw  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  thrust  into  the  open- 
ing. Her  hands  grasped  it.  One  vigorous  pull  and 
it  was  hers,  and  the  villain  was  fleeing. 

"  I  'se  got  it !  I  'se  got  de  villin's  gun.  Wid 
de  pistils,  de  musket,  and  de  b'ilin'  water  we'll  fight 
'em ! "  she  shouted. 

Ruth,  keeping  watch,  saw  a  squad  of  men.  One 
of  them  rattled  the  knocker. 

"  What  do  you  wish  ?  "  she  asked,  raising  a  window. 

"  I  am  commissioned  to  search  for  property  belong- 
ing to  the  crown." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  a  lieutenant  in  the  command  of  Colonel 
Brush." 

"  I  do  not  recognize  your  authority,  neither  that  of 
Colonel  Brush  nor  General  Howe,  who  has  taken  his 
departure." 

"  I  shall  be  under  the  necessity  of  entering  by  force 
if  you  do  not  open  the  door." 


378       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

"  You  will  do  so  at  your  peril." 

"  Break  down  the  door,  men  !  " 

The  soldiers  pounded  with  the  butts  of  their  mus« 
kets,  but  the  panels  did  not  yield. 

"  Smash  a  window !  " 

A  bayonet  was  thrust  through  a  pane,  and  the  glass 
rattled  to  the  ground  ;  the  butt  of  a  luusket  smashed 
the  sash,  and  a  pair  of  hands  grasped  the  window-sill. 
Memory  recalled  a  day  when  two  soldiers  assaidted 
her ;  from  that  hour  a  redcoat  had  been  hateful. 
She  seized  one  of  the  pistols.  Remembering  what 
Pompey  had  said,  she  picked  the  lighted  candle  from 
its  socket  and  thrust  it  into  the  weapon.  The  ruffian 
was  astride  the  window-sill.  There  was  a  flash,  a 
loud  report,  and  he  droj^ped  with  a  thud  to  the  gTound. 

From  the  balcony  cauie  a  flood  of  boiling  water 
upon  the  astonished  ruffians. 

'•  I  '11  give  it  to  ye,  b'ilin'  hot  I  "  shouted  Phillis. 
The  ruffians  saw  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  pointed  towards 
them  from  the  window,  and  the  stalwart  form  of 
Pompey  as  he  raised  it  to  take  aim.  The  astonished 
villains  fled,  leaving  Ruth,  Pompey,  and  Phillis  vic- 
tors in  the  encounter. 

Morning  dawned  fair  and  beautiful.  The  robins 
and  bluebirds  were  singing  in  the  garden.  Ruth 
heard  again  the  beating  of  drums,  the  blast  of  bugles. 
General  Washington  was  entering  the  town.  By  his 
side  rode  ]Major  Robert  Walden. 

AVhat  surprise  I  A  white  handkerchief  was  waving 
from  the  balcony  of  the  Xew\411e  home.  She  was 
there,  more  In'outiful  and   queenly  than  ever  before  ! 


IN  THE  OLD  HOME.  379 

Not  an  alien,  not  an  exile,  but  loyal  to  liberty,  to 
him  !  He  must  leap  from  his  saddle  and  clasp  her 
in  his  arms!  No.  He  must  accompany  his  great 
commander  in  the  triumphal  entry.  That  accom- 
plished, then  the  mispeakable  joy. 

There  came  an  evening  when  the  Newville  home 
was  aglow  with  lights,  and  Pompey  was  bowing  low 
to  General  and  Mrs.  Washington,  Generals  Greene, 
Putnam,  Thomas,  to  colonels,  majors,  captains,  coun- 
cilors, the  selectmen  of  the  town.  Reverend  Doctor 
Cooper,  Colonel  Henry  and  Lucy  Knox,  Captain  and 
Mrs.  Brandon,  Berinthia,  Abraham  Duncan,  Major 
Tom  Brandon,  Rachel  Walden  ;  young  ladies  in  the 
bloom  of  maidenhood,  matronly  mothers,  fathers  reso- 
lute of  countenance,  —  all  rejoicing  that  the  redcoats 
were  gone. 

Down  from  the  chamber,  passing  the  old  clock  on 
the  stairs,  came  Major  Robert  Walden,  in  bright, 
new  uniform,  and  Ruth  Newville  in  satin,  white  and 
pure. 

Reverend  Doctor  Cooper  spoke  of  the  bravery  of 
the  bridegroom  in  battle,  the  manliness  of  character 
that  fitted  him  for  fighting  the  battle  of  life.  Tears 
came  to  many  eyes  as  he  pictured  the  love  of  a 
maiden  who  rescued  her  beloved,  swept  by  life's  ebb- 
ing tide  far  out  towards  a  shoreless  sea. 

They  who  stood  aroiuid  beheld  the  countenance  of 
the  bride  transfigured  as  she  pronounced  the  words, 
"  to  love,  to  honor,  and  cherish  him." 

Amid  the  general  joy,  one  heart  alone  felt  a  mo- 
mentary  pang.      Never  might    Rachel    whisper    such 


380       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

words  to  him  whose  last  thought  had  been  of  her, 
who  had  given  his  life  that  liberty  might  live. 

Once  more  food  was  to  be  had  from  the  market- 
men  around  Faneuil  Hall  —  joints  of  beef,  pigs,  sau- 
sages, chickens,  tui-keys,  vegetables  and  fruit,  brought 
in  by  the  farmers  of  Braintree,  Dedham,  and  Rox- 
bury.  Fishermen  once  more  coidd  sail  down  the 
harbor,  drop  their  lines  for  cod  and  mackerel  on  the 
fishing  ground  beyond  the  Outer  Brewster,  and  re- 
turn to  the  town  without  molestation  from  a  meddling- 
town  major. 

With  joyful  countenance  and  conscious  dignity, 
Pompey  perambulated  the  market,  inspecting  what  the 
hucksters  had  for  sale. 

"  I  want  de  juiciest  j'int,  de  tenderest,  fattest 
turkey,  de  freshest  eggs  right  from  de  nest,  'cause  de 
casion  is  to  be  Missus  Ruth's  weddin'  dinner,"  he  said. 

Many  l)anquets  had  Phillis  prepared,  but  never  one 
like  the  dinner  for  Miss  Ruth  on  her  wedding  day. 

"  I  've  roasted  de  turkey  and  sparrib  for  Massa 
Ginerel  Howe  and  Massa  Gmerel  Clinton,  but  dey 
ain't  of  no  'count  "side  Massa  Major  Walden  and 
Massa  Ginerel  Washington,  'cause  dey  drive  de  red- 
coats out  of  Boston.  Miss  Ruth  fired  de  pistil  and 
I  scaldid  dem  with  de  b'ilin'  water.  He !  he !  he  !  " 
she  laughed. 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  stuff  the  turkey,  to  turn  the 
joint  of  beef  roasting  on  the  sjjit.  mix  the  jjlums  in 
tlie  pudding,  and  mould  the  mince  pies  for  Ruth  and 
\\vv  friends. 

••  Miss  Ruth  told  me  to  go  free,  and  now  she  "s 
Missus  Ruth  Walden.      He  !   he  !   he  !  " 


IN  THE  OLD  HOME. 


381 


The  laughter  bubbled  from  her  lips. 

It  was  a  joyful  party  that  sat  down  to  the  dinner. 
The  toasts  drunk  were  not  the  health  of  George  III. 
and  Sophia  Charlotte,  but  the  health  of  General 
George     Washington,     the     Continental      Congress, 


The  Dinner-Party. 


Major  Robert  Walden,  and,  more  heai-tily  than  any 
other,  long  life  and  happiness  to  Ruth  Newville 
Walden. 


Years  have  gone  by,  —  years  of  sorrow,  privation, 
and  suffering  to  those  who,  tlirough  their  loyalty  to 
King  George,  and  their  inalnlity  to  discern  the  signs 


382        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

of  the  times,  have  been  exiles  from  the  land  that 
gave  them  birth,  whose  property  has  been  seized  by 
the  Great  and  General  Court  of  Massachusetts.  The 
days  are  long  to  Mary  Shrimpton  in  the  little  cabin 
at  Halifax.  The  great  estates  once  owned  by  her 
father  are  no  longer  his.  Her  once  beautiful  home 
has  been  sold  to  the  liighest  bidder.  Only  with  her 
spinning-wheel  can  she  keep  the  wolf  from  the  cabin 
door.  Parliament  has  been  talking  of  doing  some- 
thing for  the  refugees  in  Nova  Scotia,  but  the  com- 
moners and  lords  are  three  thousand  miles  away,  and 
the  people  of  England  are  gi-oaning  under  the  burden 
incurred  by  the  fruitless  attemj^t  to  subdue  the  Colo- 
nies. The  struggle  is  over.  Lord  Comwallis  has 
surrendered  his  army  to  General  Washington  at 
Yorktown,  and  commissioners  are  negotiating  a  peace. 
Tlu'ough  the  years  Abel  Shrimpton,  unreconciled  to 
life's  changes,  has  been  cursing  Samuel  Adams  and 
John  Hancock  for  having  led  the  people  to  rebel 
against  the  king,  not  seeing  that  Divine  Providence 
was  using  them  as  instrimients  to  bring  about  a  new 
era  in  human  affairs.  When  the  curses  are  loudest 
and  most  vehement,  Mary's  gentle  hand  pats  his  lij)s, 
smooths  the  gTay  hairs  from  the  wrinkled  brow,  and 
calms  his  tioubled  spirit.  Pansies  bloom  beneath 
the  latticed  windows  of  her  cabin  home.  Morning:- 
glories  twine  around  it.  Swallows  twitter  their  joj^ 
and  l)uild  their  nests  beneath  the  eves.  Motherly 
hens  cluck  to  their  broods  in  the  dooryard.  The  fare 
u])on  the  tal)le  \vntliin  the  cabin  is  frugal,  but  there  is 
always  a  bit  of  l)read  or  a  herring  for  a  wandering 
exile.      When  women  pine  for  their  old  homes,  when 


IN  THE  OLD  HOME.  ^         383 

homesickness  becomes  a  disease,  it  is  Mary  Shrimp- 
ton  who  cheers  the  fainting  hearts.  As  she  sits  by 
her  wheel,  she  sings  the  song  sung  by  the  blind  old 
harper  Carolan,  who,  though  long  separated  from  his 
true  love,  yet  recognized  her  by  the  touch  of  her  gentle 
hand :  — 

"  True  love  can  ne'er  forget. 
Fondly  as  when  we  met, 
Dearest,  I  love  thee  yet, 
My  darling  one." 

Tom  Brandon  said  he  would  be  true  to  her.  The 
war  is  over ;  surely  if  living  he  will  come.  Though 
the  thick  fog  at  tunes  drifts  in  from  the  sea,  shutting 
out  the  landscape  and  all  surrounding  objects,  though 
the  rain  patters  on  the  roof,  and  the  days  are  dark 
and  dreary,  her  face  is  calm  and  serene,  glorified  by 
a  steadfast  faith  and  changeless  love. 

The  time  has  been  long  to  the  occupants  of  the 
cottage  across  the  way.  Though  little  gold  is  left  in 
the  purse,  there  is  ever  room  for  hungry  refugees  at 
the  table  of  the  king's  former  conmiissioner  of  im- 
posts. The  locks  beneath  his  tie-wig  are  whiter  than 
they  were,  the  furrows  on  his  brow  have  deepened. 
Officers  of  the  army  and  navy  in  Halifax,  once  guests 
in  his  home  on  the  slope  of  Beacon  Hill,  sometimes 
call  upon  him,  but  the  great  world  has  passed  him  by. 
Old  friends,  fellow  exiles,  at  times  gather  at  his  fire- 
side, talk  of  other  days,  and  of  what  Parliament  may 
possibly  do  for  them. 

Time  has  left  its  mark  upon  the  face  of  her  who 
sits  by  his  side.  The  soft,  brown  hair,  has  changed 
to  gi*ay.     Plans  of  other  days  have  not  come  to  pass. 


384        DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Disappointment  and  grief  have  quenched  ambitious 
fire.  Father  and  mother  are  separated  from  a 
daughter  beloved.  How  could  Ruth  ever  become  a 
rebel,  disloyal  to  her  rightf  id  sovereign  ?  What  pos- 
sessed her  to  turn  her  back  upon  Lord  Upperton, 
upon    the    opportunity   to    become    a  peeress  of   the 


Home  of  the  Exiles. 


reahn  ?  Oh,  the  misery  that  has  come  from  such 
\vaywardness  I  What  has  become  of  her?  Will 
they  ever  again  see  her? 


With  the  flag  of  the  new  nation — the  banner  of 
crinisoii  stri])es  and  fadeless  stars  —  flying  at  her  mast- 
head, tlic  slii])  Berinthia  Brandon,  Major  Tom  Bran- 


W  THE  OLD  HOME.  865 

don  owner,  comes  proudly  sailing  into  Halifax  har- 
bor. The  anchor  dropped,  he  makes  his  way  to  the 
vine-clad  cabin,  listens  a  moment  by  the  latticed  win- 
dow to  hear  a  sweet  voice  singing  words  that  thrill 
him. 

"  Dearest,  I  love  thee  yet, 
My  darling  one." 

He  lifts  the  latch.  There  is  a  cry  of  delight,  and 
Mary  springs  to  his  arms. 

"  I  said  I  would  come,  and  I  am  here." 

"I  knew  you  would,  Tom.  Ever  since  a  ship 
arrived  bringing  the  news  from  Yorktown  that  Corn- 
wallis  had  surrendered,  I  have  been  expecting  you." 

"  How  do  you  do,  father  ?  "  said  Major  Tom,  hold- 
ing out  his  hand  to  Mr.  Shrimpton. 

"  I  ain't  your  father,"  the  surly  reply. 

"  But  you  are  to  be,  as  soon  as  I  can  find  a  minis- 
ter. The  past  is  past.  I  've  come  to  take  you  and 
Mary  to  your  old  home.  When  it  was  sold,  I  bought 
it ;  you  are  to  go  back  to  it  and  live  there.  It  is  to 
be  our  home." 

There  is  astonishment  upon  the  cold,  hard  face, 
which  relaxes  its  sternness ;  the  chin  quivers,  the  lips 
tremble,  tears  roll  down  the  cheeks  of  the  gray- 
haired  exile.  Through  the  years  he  has  nursed  his 
hate.  But  there  is  no  sword  so  sharp,  no  weapon 
so  keen  to  pierce  the  hardened  human  heart,  as 
kindness.  He  has  hated  Samuel  Adams,  John  Han- 
cock, and  Tom  Brandon  ;  and  this  is  Tom's  revenge. 
His  old  home  to  be  his  own  once  more !  No  longer 
an  exile !  To  sit  once  more  by  the  old  fireside, 
through  the  kindness  of  him  whom  he  had  turned  from 


386       DAUGHTERS   OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

his  door !  His  head  drops  upon  his  breast ;  he  sobs 
like  a  child,  but  reaches  out  his  arms  to  them. 

"  Take  her,  Tom.  I  've  hated  you,  but  God  bless 
you  ;  you  were  right,  and  I  was  wrong." 

No  longer  hard-hearted,  cold,  and  animated  by  hate, 
but  as  a  little  child  he  enters  the  doorway  leading  to 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

A  man  of  stalwart  frame,  a  woman  radiant  and 
beautiful,  with  a  little  boy  and  girl,  are  standing  by 
the  door  of  the  humble  home  across  the  way ;  fellow- 
passengers  with  Major  Tom  on  the  Berinthia  Bran- 
don. Mr.  NewviUe  opens  the  door  in  answer  to  the 
knock,  to  be  clasped  in  the  arms  of  Ruth.  Great  the 
surprise,  unspeakable  the  joy,  of  father,  mother,  and 
daughter,  meeting  once  more,  welcoming  a  worthy 
son,  taking  prattling  gTandchildren  to  their  arms. 

"  We  have  come  for  you,  and  we  are  all  going  home 
together.  You  wiQ  find  everything  just  as  it  was 
when  you  left,"  said  Ruth. 

Once  more  there  were  happy  homes  in  Boston,  — 
that  upon  Copp's  Hill,  where  Berinthia  and  Abraham 
Duncan  cared  for  the  father  and  mother  ;  that  where 
Tom  and  Mary  Shrimpton-Brandon  made  the  passing 
days  pleasant  to  Abel  Shrimpton,  loyal  no  longer  to 
King  George,  but  to  the  flag  of  the  future  republic ; 
and  that  other  home,  where  Major  Robert  Walden 
and  his  loving  wife,  with  queenly  grace,  dispensed 
unstinted  hospitality,  not  only  to  those  distinguished 
among  their  fellow-men,  but  to  tlie  poor  and  needy, 
impoverished  by  the  long  and  weary  struggle  for  in- 


IN  THE  OLD  HOME.  387 

dependence  of  the  mother  land.  Abel  Shrimpton  and 
Theodore  Newville  were  no  longer  exiles,  but  citizens, 
acknowledging  cheerful  allegiance  to  the  flag  of  the 
confederation,  through  the  fealty  to  liberty  by  the 
Daughters  of  the  Revolution. 


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